Falling Snow
by sugarcandyaddiction
Summary: In an alternate universe where the skies never fell, college-aged Ben and Jimmy spend their first Christmas together at home meeting one another's families. (Christmas gift fic for Fire Light readers, based on the backgrounds established for the boys in First Patrol and a moment in Fire Light where Ben and Jimmy fantasize about a future life together where aliens did not invade.)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Feliz Navidad, people! Rightio, so, this is a gift fic that a wrote for all the wonderful readers of my other fics First Patrol and Fire Light. I kind of wrote it over the course of...seven days maybe...and it's really meant to just be a fun little story. Or it was, I'm sort of pissed at myself, because this story is roughly 60K, 39 chapters, and I kind of just wanted to write this short little fluff piece maybe 15 chapters, 20 at the most. I'm still wrapping it up as I write this...but...eh...sorry, brains off.

This story was inspired by a moment in Fire Light in which Jimmy and Ben lie in bed and fantasize about a future in a world where the 'skies never fell'. I thought it might be fun to write a quick AU ficlet about that very thing, their lives together had the skies never fell. This story draws on the background stories I've established for both boys in my previous two fics, and it contains some minor (very minor) spoilers for things that haven't been introduced into Fire Light yet, so it kind of is a Non-Cannon Fire Light, AU Future Fic...is the tag, anyhow.

Summary: In a world where the skies never fell, a college-aged Jimmy and Ben spend their first Christmas together at home meeting one another's families.

Warnings: Both established Homosexual and Heterosexual relationships, the main pairing of the story is established boyxboy, and there is a shmex scene (yes, of the intercourse variety) near the end of the story, but otherwise, much of this is very PG-13, kiddies, except for their mouths. Jimmy's friends from the First Patrol flashbacks do make appearances in this and, if you've read that story you know, they are foul-mouthed little fuckers. Also, keep your eyes peeled for cameos from most everyone's fave Falling Skies characters. One didn't make it in, and I'm very upset with him...very, very upset...

Credit for the title of this goes to Greg, because I suck at titling things, otherwise you would've gotten something like "A Falling Skies Christmas", or something equally as lame.

Please, read.

* * *

Falling Snow

I.

The season was evident all around the airport. Employees were dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters, bells and holly and colorful strings of lights were strung from signs and flight boards, wreaths hung off the fronts of information kiosk counters, and the gift stores were all selling eggnog flavored chocolates and singing-dancing Santa Clause dolls. Ben strode eagerly from the luggage claim carousels with his large rolling luggage and a duffle slung over his shoulder, bearing a cheerful smile and wearing an ugly Christmas sweater of his own. It was argyle in red, green, and gold, featuring a jolly Rudolf on the right breast. His eyes were like that of an excited puppy dog, shimmering playfully and swallowing the surrounding scenes whole. He paused momentarily to help an elder couple lift their own rolling luggage off the carousel, nodding pleasantly and accepting their happy holiday wishes.

"Such a polite young man," the woman praised to her husband, who grunted something like an agreement.

At the edge of the luggage claim, near passenger pick-up, Ben found Jimmy waiting with a disgruntled scowl, his arms folded tightly over his chest. He was swamped in a black overcoat and gray scarf, and beneath his shaggy brown locks appeared to be nothing more than a pair of bright blue eyes against stark white. He slung the duffle up on his shoulder, joining it with his carry-on – a tattered green backpack, and then handed over Ben's laptop bag.

"I love this season," Ben declared, absently pushing his silver-rimmed glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, and shouldering his laptop.

"You would," Jimmy returned bitterly, snuggling deeper into the security and warmth of his coat and proclaiming, "The holidays suck. Why did we have to come back to Boston for this shit? You know, it doesn't snow in California."

"It does too snow in California…just not where we live and I thought you liked the snow," Ben said, leading the way to car rentals.

"I like the _look_ of snow. I don't like snow itself. I don't want to touch it. I don't want to be in it. I don't want to shovel it. If either of our parents make me shovel snow, I'm taking a red eye back to Berkeley _that_ night. Just so we're clear," Jimmy griped.

"Okay, Mr. Scrooge," Ben teased.

Jimmy stopped dead and sent a threatening glare Ben's direction.

"Don't call me that," he grumbled.

Ben smirked, "Fine. Grinch."

"Oh, go to hell," Jimmy muttered, continuing walking again as he complained, "And keep your hands to yourself tonight. I'm still not sure how mad I plan on being at you for going behind my back and buying the plane tickets but you better believe it's somewhere in the astronomically huge category."

"What are you talking about 'behind your back'? We agreed to this," Ben protested.

They stepped in line at the car rental counter behind a young woman with a gracile frame and notes of Hispanic ancestry in her delicate elfin features. She was speaking on her cell-phone in Spanish, another college student home for the holidays it seemed.

"We did not," Jimmy scoffed indignantly, "I think I would remember scheduling the trip from hell for my winter break!"

"We agreed that we would introduce one another to our families before the end of the year," Ben insisted, "And this is the last couple weeks before the end of the year."

"I agreed to no such thing. You just decided on your own that we agreed on it. If I remember correctly, my exact words on the subject were 'when I'm making snow angels in hell'," Jimmy countered.

"Well, then, I misunderstood," Ben replied cheekily, "I thought you said you wanted to make snow angels while you were in hell and you constantly refer to Boston as hell, so you see how I could become confused with that."

Jimmy buried his face in his palm and groaned, "You are such an asshole."

"I love you too, babe," Ben grinned.

The young woman in front of them stepped up to the counter and told the clerk her name, "Lourdes Delgado.

The boys shuffled to the front of the line, waiting for the next available clerk as 'Lourdes' was checked-out for a rental and then led into the parking lot by the clerk.

"Have you talked to your parents, yet?" Ben wondered, "They know we're in town, right?"

"Yeah, I called the other night at Rick's party," Jimmy muttered.

Rick was a classmate at Berkeley. He and Ben were members of the same fraternity, Psi Kappa Theta Theta Rho, otherwise known as the "SKTTR's". Rick always held a large party after finals, a sort of end of the year bash, at the house he shared with a few of the other frat brothers. He was trying to make the party a campus tradition, but it usually only consisted of SKTTR members sitting around playing a drinking game to pen-and-paper style Dungeons and Dragons. They were less the usual type of fraternity that were all around obnoxious rich kids, and more a fraternity ala Nerds the movie. Jimmy usually opted out of the game, choosing to just drink instead.

"You were…drunk…at Rick's," Ben slowly pointed out.

Oh boy, was drunk an understatement. Jimmy was wasted. That night, after the fifth beer and three shots of tequila he became embarrassingly proud of Ben for having the only character on the game board – or map, they called it – over level 30, which he only understood was a good thing and not a whole lot else about the game, but it didn't stop him from bragging to every new arrival at the party, "thas my boyfriend, Ben. No the cute one…no the _cute_ one. He's a level thirty something sword person thing…he's winning. Tha means th'he's the best hero…better than you and you and _definitely_ you…"

They had ended up calling it a night early and Jimmy spent the next morning in the bathroom slumped over their toilet.

"So?" Jimmy challenged, he sighed and casually explained, "I need a little alcohol in my system to deal with my parents. Which reminds me, I got to call a man about a bottle of whiskey later."

Ben rolled his eyes but made no comment. Jimmy didn't exactly share many stories about his family, or any for that matter. He only made sarcastic insinuations about how horrible they were, and Ben was inclined to believe Jimmy was just exaggerating, complaining the way everyone did. Of course, Ben didn't complain nearly as much about his own family, and he usually had good things to say about them too, which fostered a small, doubtful part of Ben that was reluctant to meet the Bolands out of fear Jimmy wasn't exaggerating.

A clerk reappeared behind the counter and motioned the boys over.

"Rental for Ben Mason," Ben stated. The clerk punched the name into his computer.

"Ah…here you are, Mister Mason, we've got you in a Ford Taurus, four door sedan for the next ten days. Will that be alright for you?"

"Yes, perfect," Ben told the man even as Jimmy made a face and grumbled, "A Ford? That's the best they could get us?"

"If I could just see a picture ID," the man asked, sounding slightly offended. Ben tugged out his wallet, handing his license over and the man skimmed it, punching more information into his computer.

"What hotel are we booked at?" Jimmy wondered.

Ben drew his breath in sharply, "About that…"

"What?" Jimmy demanded, narrowing his eyes on the other boy, "We are booked at a hotel right…?"

"Well…"

"If it's a Motel 6, I'm leaving you," Jimmy growled.

"It's not a Motel 6," Ben carefully explicated, "You see, when I mentioned to my parents that we would be staying at a hotel, they…uh…"

"No," Jimmy gasped.

"They were really offended that we would even think about not staying with them, Jimmy, I had no choice," Ben rambled off.

"No," Jimmy groaned, rubbing his face out of agitation, "The one saving grace you gave me for this entire trip was your promise – and you fucking promised me, asshole – that at the end of the night we got to go to our own room, in a place far, _far_ away from both of our families and…"

"Come on, it won't be that bad," Ben said, "My family is…well, they're okay once you get used to them. And they're going to like you and I think you'll like them…"

"I thought you said that us staying in a hotel would work for everyone because your parents were going to have a full house anyways, what with your brother in town with his wife and their brat," Jimmy argued.

"I really wish you wouldn't refer to my nephew like that," Ben sighed.

"It shits, it pisses, it eats, it cries, and that's it," Jimmy seethed, "When it learns to complain about what I call it itself, I'll reconsider, but for now it's a brat. And if it screams all fucking night, I swear to God, Ben, I will check into a hotel by myself, and I will spend the rest of this trip there and you can spend the rest of the trip at your parents'…"

The clerk behind the counter impatiently jangled a car key chained to a security device to get the boys' attention, and Jimmy faltered, flustering as he realized where they were still standing and that quite a few eyes were on the arguing couple now. Jimmy ducked his head and covered his face, his pale cheeks now blistering a bright red, while Ben just smiled apologetically at the people in the line.

"If you'll, please, follow me," the clerk tentatively ushered the boys into the parking lot. He showed them the maroon colored car, pointed out the dents and scratches on the vehicle, showed them how much gas was in the fuel tank and where it would need to be when they returned the car, then gave Ben the paperwork to sign, the car keys, and wished them in a falsely cheery voice, "Have a happy holidays."

"Well he was a prick," Jimmy commented, as soon as they were in the car pulling out of the lot. Ben smirked, settling back in his seat with one hand on the wheel, and taking Jimmy's hand in the other.

"This is going to be a good trip, you'll see," Ben promised, muttering under his breath, "I swear, sometimes you get so worked up over nothing, you act like the skies are falling."


	2. Chapter 2

II.

Things were in a familial chaos at the Mason house when the front doorbell rang. Hal, the eldest Mason brother, was busily attempting to put up the Christmas tree, as his youngest brother, Matt, sat on the sofa nearby with eyes glued to the television screen. Rebekah, the matriarch of the Mason family, bustled by from out the kitchen wafting with the smell of fresh baking cookies towards the front door. She paused to glare at her son on the sofa, hands on her hips.

"Matt, I told you to go upstairs and clean that room," she scolded.

Matt rolled his eyes, and groaned, "I will in a minute. Just wait 'till it's on commercial."

"Your brother is going to be here soon," Rebekah persisted.

"With his boyfriend," Hal noted, muffling a chuckle. Matt snickered under his breath.

"Hey, I will have none of that," Rebekah hissed warning to her sons, pausing to jab a finger both boys' directions, "This is very important for your brother and he needs our love and our support. So you will both be nothing but _loving_ and _supportive_. And you'll be nice to this young man he's bringing. You hear me? _Nice_."

"Yes, mom," Hal and Matt both grumbled in semi-unison as the bell rang again.

"And they are going to need somewhere to put their things, Matthew, so get your butt upstairs and clean that room," Rebekah huffed over her shoulder, as she disappeared into the foyer and swung open the front door. At the sight of the young man standing on the porch step, grinning broadly, Rebekah let out an excited squeal, thrusting her arms around her middle son and dragging him into a crushing embrace, "Ben, my baby, you're home!"

"Hi, mom," Ben choked out greeting in return.

Rebekah only let her son go when she caught sight of the wide-eyed young man standing awkwardly behind him. She smiled warmly.

"And you must be Jimmy," she exclaimed, hurrying to throw her arms around the stunned speechless boy even as Ben quickly began to stammer out, "Oh, no, mom, he really doesn't…"

But it was too late.

Jimmy stiffened on instinct, his eyes screwing tightly shut, his arms hung rigid as boards at his sides, as he was suddenly smothered by an overexcited mother and otherwise perfect stranger. Rebekah pulled back after robbing him of all air, gripping him by the shoulders and giving him a once over. Ben hadn't provided much information on the young man who seemed to have so strongly caught his eye. The meek looking boy before her, that at quick glance appeared to be nothing more than a coat with eyes, certainly wasn't what she had expected, but then, admittedly, a few years prior any boy Ben could've brought home wouldn't have been expected.

"I am so happy to finally meet you," Rebekah declared, releasing Jimmy entirely. She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself and shuddering, she said, "Oh, it's chilly out here. Come on, boys, get inside, get inside."

Ben and Rebekah moved quickly into the warmth and familiarity of their home.

"Hal, Matt, get in here, your brother's home," Rebekah called.

Tentatively, Jimmy followed after the two. He closed the door behind them, and leaned back against it. He watched with eyes like a deer in headlights, as mother and son reacquainted themselves. Rebekah fussed over Ben, smoothing his hair back and admiring his sweater.

"Is this the one Grandma Ruthie sent?" she wondered.

"Yeah, she sent a whole care package. The cookies were stale though, I ended up tossing them," Ben confirmed.

"She probably made them weeks before sending them out and left them on the counter 'to cool' that entire time," Rebekah joked, then noted, "The sweater looks good though. How was the flight, hon?"

"Um…thanks…uh, the flight was good," Ben said, he glanced at Jimmy and verified, "It was good, right, babe?"

Rebekah turned her attention to the young man cowering against her door, and he flushed noticeably at the harmless pet name.

"Yeah," Jimmy murmured, dropping his gaze and fidgeting absently with his scarf.

"Jimmy, honey, let me take your coat," Rebekah offered, moving forward to help Jimmy out of the swampy garment.

"Oh, sure, thanks," Jimmy mumbled. He slipped the coat off, rolling up the long sleeves of his blue shirt underneath. She took the coat to a nearby closet at the entry of a hallway. Jimmy watched her anxiously for a moment, turning back to notice too late the older boy that had crept up behind Ben, suddenly grabbing Ben in a headlock and effectively giving him a 'noogie' as Ben cried out in surprise and struggled against the hold. Jimmy pressed himself back firmly against the door, watching in slight fright and startle.

"Hey, dork, welcome home," the older boy gleefully greeted, easily swatting away Ben's attempts to break free.

"Dammit, Hal, let me go," Ben grunted complaint.

Rebekah crossed back over, swatting at Hal, and scolding lightly, "Oh, Hal, get off. Do not break your brother _already, _at least give him a minute to get through the door!"

Hal released Ben, laughing uproariously. Ben straightened, readjusting his glasses and smoothing out his sweater, as he muttered indignantly, "Jerk."

"What are you wearing?" Hal wondered, plucking at his brother's sweater sleeve to get a better look at the Christmas garment, features scrunched in reproach, "Did you mug an old man on your way here?"

"No, it's the one gram sent," Ben replied, tone slightly defensive, as he tenderly pushed the wrinkles from his sweater.

"Just when I thought your wardrobe couldn't get any lamer," Hal teased. Jimmy smirked lightly at that observation. Ben really did have some lame clothes, he still liked to wear ironic-saying t-shirts, and he seemed married to his light green twill jacket with beige patches on the sleeves.

"Oh, stop it," Rebekah chastised, "I think you look very handsome in that sweater, hon."

Ben smirked smugly at his older brother, but Hal just rolled his eyes.

"Because, you know, mom's opinion isn't biased at all," Hal persisted.

"It _is_ a nice sweater. Where is the one that grandma sent you, Hal? I think you and Matt ought to go put your sweaters on too," Rebekah decided, she clapped her hands together, "We could line you boys up outside and take a picture. It would be so adorable."

Ben grinned triumphantly and Hal slapped a hand over his face.

"We need to recheck your definition of adorable, mom."

"I like the idea, mom, I think Hal should definitely go grab his sweater…"

"Stop sucking up, dork."

"And what is so wrong with a son humoring his mother. You could learn a thing or two from your brother."

"Uh…" Jimmy cleared his throat, shrinking back when all eyes suddenly turned on him, and sheepishly commenting, "I think something is burning."

For a second, the brothers and mother exchanged blank looks, noticing that a distinctly acrid smell was seeping throughout the house.

"Oh crap, my cookies," Rebekah griped, rushing back towards the kitchen, as she complained, "See what you boys made me do."

"Yeah, sure, blame it on us, ma, forget the three batches you've already burned _without_ our help," Hal called after her, then shifted his focus to Jimmy, arms still crossed over his chest. He gave the younger boy a surveying look and Jimmy took a self-conscious step towards Ben, "So, you're him then."

"Um…I guess," Jimmy replied, darting a questioning look to Ben. Ben rolled his eyes and stepped forward to make the introductions.

"Yes, this is _him_. Jimmy this is my older brother, Hal. He's a perpetual jerk, so basically ignore him and call him names behind his back, but make sure you do it loud enough that he can hear."

"Hi," Jimmy murmured, nodding shortly.

Hal extended a hand, and Jimmy hesitantly grasped it. Hal jerked Jimmy forward a step by the hand and clapped him heartily on the shoulder, the force of his friendly knock clacking Jimmy's teeth together.

"Good to meet you," Hal declared just as a slender, gawky, teenage boy slunk into the area.

"Hey, Ben, what's going on?" the boy said, slipping over to quickly clap an arm across Ben's shoulders.

"Jeez, Matt, you've grown like two inches since I last saw you," Ben replied, taking in his younger brother in a hasty once over, "And what is with your hair? You need to get this mop cut."

"Shut up, you sound like mom," Matt grumbled, self-consciously finger brushing his hair even as Hal burst out laughing at his wry remark. Ben just rolled his eyes, obviously used to his brothers' antics.

"Matt, I want you to meet Jimmy, Jimmy this is my younger brother, Matt," Ben announced, gesturing the two towards one another.

Matt smiled crookedly at the older boy still hovering in the Mason's doorstep. Jimmy gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement.

"Where's dad?" Ben wondered, scrunching his brow inquisitively at his brothers.

"Grocery store," Matt explained, "Mom sent him to get more cookie dough."

"She's trying to salvage the ones that she can by scraping the dark parts off the bottoms," Hal expanded, "But most of them are extra crispy, there's no saving them."

"We started a petition to order pizza for Christmas dinner, but she shot that down," Matt added, lamenting, "We had everyone's signature except yours and his." He gestured Jimmy with a head tilt.

"Your mom…" Jimmy started, faltering when everyone turned to him again, and quietly finishing his question, "She's not a good cook?"

The brothers started laughing at that, exchanging knowing looks and Jimmy sort of lowered his eyes again, feeling as though he were on the outside of an inside joke.

"She cooks okay," Ben answered vaguely.

"She's better at overcooking," Hal added.

"She's great at burning things," Matt tacked on and the brothers laughed again.

Jimmy smiled tersely and nodded, "Okay."

"Boys," Rebekah shouted, returning to the foyer, "Matt, Hal, why don't you help your brother get their luggage from the car. Jimmy, honey, come in, I'll give you a quick tour. Did you maybe want something to drink?"

"Uh…no. Not thirsty. Thanks," Jimmy replied. He shot Ben a look filled with panic, as he slowly trudged after Rebekah farther into the house.

The brothers filed out the door and Matt excitedly chirped, "Hey, Ben." His brothers all but ignored him.

"Where's my nephew?" Ben demanded of Hal, as he led the way to the rental car and popped its trunk. There wasn't much luggage, each boy returning to the house with a single bag.

"Ben…" Matt whined in the background.

"Upstairs napping with his mom," Hal answered, "It was a long drive here. We only got like three…four hours of sleep, and then we helped dad hang lights on the house this morning."

"Ben!" Matt whimpered insistently.

"What?" Ben asked, slightly exasperated. They re-entered the house and dropped all the bags on the ground in the front entry.

"I got the new Battlefield game for the PS3, do you want to play?" Matt eagerly questioned.

"Maybe later," Ben sighed, "I got to check on Jimmy, make sure mom doesn't traumatize him too much."

"He's real quiet, huh? And jumpy. We didn't scare him, did we?" Hal questioned.

"What? No. He's fine. At least, I think he's fine," Ben furrowed his brow and admitted, "He's a little shy, is all. I hope he's fine. I'd better find him."

* * *

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A/N: Didn't spend much time proofing these, so I hope they're okay. Trying to proof as I go here, but I'm dead tired and I need to finish the last two and a half chapters before I can go to bed.

I'm posting everything at once, just because I want to see the crazy reactions. I hope some people review anyway...that'd be nice. Uh...because Fire Light is on hiatus, I would recommend pacing yourselves on reading this if you're desperately waiting for Fire Light to come back but...I obviously can't stop you if you decide to read it all at once.

Let me know what you think though! That'd be awesome!


	3. Chapter 3

III.

As soon as they'd entered the kitchen, Rebekah insisted Jimmy take a glass of eggnog. He didn't really want it, he didn't like eggnog, but he didn't want to offend her. He carried it around, clutched to himself almost like a security blanket, and took small sips, cringing at every single one. There wasn't even any whiskey in it. Rebekah then proceeded to give Jimmy the 'tour', although the house itself wasn't very large, and there wasn't much in it worth showing off, so the tour basically consisted of, "here's the kitchen…this is the laundry room…backyard…door to the garage…family room…and then upstairs we have…bedrooms!"

Ben and his brothers returned indoors just as Rebekah was finished showing Jimmy the room – Ben's old room – which he and Ben would be sharing during their stay. She opened the door, flicked on the lights, then immediately turned it off again and shut the door.

"I told Matt to clean this room," she grumbled, explaining haggardly to Jimmy with a remorseful shake of her head, "He's been using it as his 'man cave', ever since Tom, Ben's father, turned Hal's old room into his own 'man cave'. I swear, if one of my boys doesn't give me granddaughters…"

She paused, her eyes widening on a sheepish looking Jimmy.

"Sorry…I can't help with that," he mumbled apologetically.

"Oh no…no…hon, I didn't mean…that's why I had three boys, you see, better odds at grandchildren," Rebekah hastily covered then tentatively suggested, "Though…if you two did ever think about…well…there are possibilities like adoption or a surrogate mother. Oh, I would love if you two adopted…"

Jimmy flushed, gaping and stammering, "Uh…Ben and I…we haven't really…talked about..."

"There you are," Ben called, clambering to the top of the stairs. Rebekah and Jimmy turned in surprise at his sudden entrance, both looking abashed. Ben narrowed his eyes suspiciously on them, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jimmy hastily choked out. Ben perked a brow at him, obviously unconvinced.

"I was just showing Jimmy your old room," Rebekah spoke up, covering a smile, "It's a little messy in there right now. I'm going to get Matt on cleaning it. Why don't you two help yourselves to cookies and then we are probably going to start decorating the tree as soon as your father gets home, Ben."

"Alright, mom," Ben said.

Rebekah moved past, and hurried down the stairs in search of her youngest son. Ben set his steady gaze on Jimmy. Jimmy lowered his face and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"How you doing? You look ready to bolt," Ben noted.

"Well, yeah, of course I do. I would've bolted already, except your mom took my jacket," Jimmy returned smartly. Ben smirked at that, and then frowned slightly.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

"Hm…? No. No, your family is nice," Jimmy murmured.

Ben grinned, bridging the distance between them and relieving Jimmy of the eggnog glass.

"Why do you have this?" Ben wondered, wrinkling his nose at the creamy concoction.

Jimmy shrugged, "Your mom gave it to me."

"You hate eggnog," Ben pointed out, chuckling, taking a gulp from the glass then setting it on the banister. He closed out all space between them, sliding his arm round Jimmy's waist and pecking him on the lips, "I'm really glad you're here."

"Well, that makes one of us," Jimmy replied sardonically.

Ben smiled broadly, drawing Jimmy into another, more firm and insistent kiss. He parted their lips, easing his tongue in to taste and explore Jimmy's mouth and playfully prod Jimmy's tongue a few times. Jimmy slipped his hands up around Ben's neck, pulling the other boy down in an effort to deepen their contact.

"Oh, gross! Ben," came a disgusted cry from the staircase.

The boys broke apart. Jimmy instantly buried his bright red face in his hand, wiping saliva from his mouth with the other, as Ben reeled on his younger brother.

"And what's so gross about it, Matt?" Ben challenged haughtily.

"What _isn't_ gross about my brother slobbering all over someone else? You two aren't going to be doing that all the time, are you? Because, I swear, between you and Hal, I'm never going to survive this holiday," Matt moaned, then muttered, "And it's a little weird, you're both guys…"

"Keep talking, Matt, and you're right, you won't survive this holiday," Ben growled, "You're fifteen, you little snot, grow up."

"Whatever," Matt replied snidely, "Can I get by so I can clean _your_ room?"

"Sure," Ben quipped, "Be sure to turn down the sheets, and don't miss the spot behind the bed. And if you will, put little mints on our pillow."

"Screw you," Matt muttered, carefully squeezing by Jimmy and darting into the bedroom Rebekah had been showing Jimmy earlier.

"Come on, let's go back downstairs. We don't have to eat any cookies. I don't actually recommend it," Ben suggested, extending his hand to Jimmy.

Jimmy considered the offered appendage a moment, before taking it and allowing Ben to lead him down the staircase and into the family room. Rebekah was in the kitchen loading a new tray of cookies into the oven and Hal had returned to fighting with the Christmas tree.

Jimmy stopped dead at the entry way, eyes sweeping over the disaster in the living room: half the sofa was occupied by a basket of laundry, the coffee table was littered with dirty dishes – some still sporting half eaten food, a couple books, and a magazine spread, there were boxes of tree ornaments and other Christmas decorations open and spilling out all over the place, in a pile in one corner of the room were presents waiting for the tree to be built. There was no fireplace in the house, so the Christmas stockings were pinned to the wall. Ben, feeling the tug on his hand, glanced back at Jimmy questioningly, but before he could say anything, Rebekah swooped in with a plate of cookies. They were oddly shaped, were scratched up and crumbling on one side, clumps of frosting were clumsily smeared on the other.

"No, thanks, mom," Ben excused.

Jimmy delicately picked one off the plate, careful not to get any frosting on his fingers. He smiled thinly and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Mason."

Rebekah went and put the plate on the coffee table, taking away the other dirty plates into the kitchen. As soon as she left the room, Ben took the cookie from Jimmy, shaking his head wearily at the boy, and put it back on the plate.

"You don't have to take everything she offers you," Ben whispered.

"Ben, will you take that laundry basket upstairs to Matt's room," Rebekah haggardly instructed from the kitchen as she turned the faucet on and started clanging dishes around, "I told him to put those clothes away yesterday."

"I'll be right back," Ben told Jimmy quietly, rolling his eyes. He grabbed the basket off the couch and brushed a kiss to Jimmy's cheek in passing, smiling encouragingly at him. Jimmy hovered in the entry way a moment, aware that Hal was watching him, had watched Ben kiss him, and feeling overly humiliated about it.

Eventually, when it looked like Ben wouldn't be "right back", Jimmy mustered his courage and wandered farther into the room. He forced a smile at Hal and wandered into the kitchen, where he found another huge disaster: dirty dishes piled high, dough squashed and splattered everywhere, a plate stacked with dark brown and even some blackened cookies, mixing bowls and measuring cups and coffee mugs still half-filled with stale beverages, and bowls still full of milk and soggy cereal. Rebekah was busily doing the dishes, and she glanced momentarily over her shoulder when Jimmy wandered in.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Jimmy wondered, looking nervously at the mess all around him.

"Oh, no, hon, that's so sweet of you. You're a guest. Go sit down, watch the television, eat some cookies," Rebekah replied, turning the faucet off and drying her hands on a nearby towel, "Do you want some hot cocoa? Or maybe some hot cider? I've got the powder brand of cocoa…and these instant cider bags…"

Jimmy wrinkled his nose at the offerings, and then hastily wiped away the expression, anxious that Rebekah might have noticed it and taken offense.

"Uh…hot cocoa, maybe," he murmured, even as Ben's words moments before rang in his ears: _you don't have to take everything she offers…_

"Alright, I'll start heating some milk. Did you want marshmallows in it?" Rebekah wondered.

"Marshmallows?" Jimmy repeated, stunned. He'd never put marshmallows in his cocoa. Rebekah smiled at him and guided him back towards the family room with a light touch to his shoulder.

"Go sit down, hon, I'll make your cocoa," she told him. He nodded stiffly, wandering back into the family room.

Hal had disappeared, the tree finished, and the room empty. Jimmy sighed and carefully maneuvered his way around boxes to the sofa. He sat down, and folded his arms over himself, waiting and hoping Ben would return soon. After a few seconds, he started straightening the magazines and stacking the books, mostly for something to do with his hands, but partially because the mess was getting to him. He heard the front door open and froze.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: For those of you wondering, no...there will not be author's notes every chapter. Why? Because I'm fucking tired! I hope you all are having a Merry Christmas, by the way.

* * *

IV.

"Boys! Why are there bags all over the floor in here?" a deep voice rumbled from the front entryway.

There was the sound of footsteps approaching and Jimmy straightened when an older man walked in carrying a couple bags of grocery. The man paused in the entry way, looking at Jimmy in surprise. There was something in his demeanor, in the light of his eyes, his dress and the puzzled expression on his face that made Jimmy instantly think of Ben.

"Hello," the man greeted, blinking away his stun. Rebekah entered then, a broad grin on her face.

"Did you take the long way to the store, babe?" she asked, crossing over to relieve the man, obviously Ben's father, Tom, of his grocery bags.

"This him?" Tom asked Rebekah in a low voice.

Jimmy shifted, nervously crawling to his feet, and wondering what exactly was with all the "him" business.

"Hi, sir," Jimmy spoke, stepping forward with an extended hand, putting all his effort into holding it steady, "I'm James…Jimmy."

Rebekah wandered back into the kitchen with the groceries as Tom accepted the hand, giving it a firm shake, and saying, "Nice to finally meet you."

Footsteps thundered down the stairs and Ben entered the room, "Dad?"

"Ben," Tom exclaimed, a broad grin spreading across his features. He grasped hold of his son by the shoulders, dragging him forward into an overwhelming bear hug that Ben heartily returned.

"Hey, dad," Ben beamed.

Tom pulled back and clapped a hand onto Ben's shoulder, giving it a good-natured squeeze.

"It's great to see you, son, how was the flight?"

"It was good," Ben said, then gestured to Jimmy standing off to the side and feeling very much out of place once again amidst the family joviality, "Did you meet Jimmy?"

"I was just in the middle of it, yeah," Tom said, then turned his attention back to Jimmy, who straightened self-consciously and forced a smile, "So you're Jimmy."

"Yes," Jimmy confirmed, furrowing his brow in concern. All of the introductions were starting to make him doubt it.

"You and Ben attend Berkeley together," Tom pressed.

"Yes."

"It's a good school. Not easy to get into. What's your major out there?" Tom questioned.

Jimmy darted a look to Ben, who smiled encouragingly, "Um…business."

"Oh, good major," Tom continued, "You can do a lot with a degree in business, right?"

"Sure."

"It's competitive though, isn't it? You have to be really good at what you do."

"I guess."

"And you're also from the Boston area?"

Jimmy nodded shortly.

Tom stroked his chin thoughtfully, examining the boy in front of him with a stern expression, as he set his hands on his hips, "You don't talk much, do you?"

"No," Jimmy mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging slightly. Tom smirked somewhat at that. Ben rolled his eyes, smiling warmly at Jimmy.

"Come on, dad, what's with the interrogation? You have all week to get to know him," Ben finally voiced complaint. Tom folded his arms over his chest and looked Jimmy up and down.

"Well, I'm just trying to decide if I'm going to give him the whole week," Tom replied, and though his tone was light and Ben didn't seem to take him too seriously, Jimmy took a small step back and dropped his gaze, feeling a little disheartened. Not even ten seconds and he'd already disappointed Ben's father.

Rebekah reentered with a steaming mug, its brim overflowing with marshmallows, and held it out for Jimmy, "Here's your cocoa, dear."

"Thank you, Mrs. Mason," Jimmy responded, taking the cup and ducking his head to avoid catching Ben's bewildered stare. He held it anxiously between his palms and glared at the little marshmallows on top soaking up cocoa.

"Is that the powdered stuff?" Ben asked.

"Yes, why? Is something wrong?" Rebekah returned.

Ben shook his head and sighed, "No. It's fine."

"Tom, are you giving this poor boy the third degree?" Rebekah demanded of her husband, placing her hand lightly on Jimmy's shoulder. He seemed to freeze at the touch.

"I was just asking him about himself," Tom protested, "I can't ask him about himself?"

Then Tom suddenly furrowed his brow.

"Is something burning?"

"Ugh, damn cookies," Rebekah griped, spinning on heel and rushing back into the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, Ben took the mug from Jimmy and gave him a meaningful look.

"You have a problem."

"She was really insistent and I thought I could try to like it," Jimmy attempted explanation in a low voice, darting an apprehensive look at Tom, watching the two boys in confusion. Ben lifted the mug and bit into the marshmallow mountain on top.

"He hates powdered hot chocolate," Ben explained to his father, swallowing down the marshmallows and sipping from the cup. Jimmy put his hands in his pockets and shrugged sheepishly.

"Is there another kind?" Tom wondered.

Ben grinned at his dad, "You have no idea. Jimmy makes hot chocolate that's, literally, like a chocolate bar melting in your mouth. I didn't even know he could make it until like a month ago, when it started getting cold. I went and bought a can of cocoa powder and Jimmy pretty much tossed it, went and got the ingredients, and made me hot chocolate and it was the most amazing thing I ever drank. I wouldn't even dream of buying powder again."

"Really?" Tom perked a brow, mildly impressed. Jimmy ran a hand over the back of his neck, his cheeks blistering with heat.

"He topped it with whipped cream that he whipped himself," Ben exclaimed.

"I used an electric blender," Jimmy amended.

"Quite the cook," Tom noted.

"Not really," Jimmy mumbled.

"He's being modest, right now. He really is good in the kitchen," Ben proudly proclaimed, grinning at Jimmy, "The first time I slept over he made banana nut pancakes for breakfast from scratch."

"Ben," Jimmy hissed warning, flushing, as he darted a look to Tom. The older man only looked slightly discomforted by his son's 'too much information' ramblings, recover rather quickly from the initial surprise.

"Oh, did he churn his own butter, too?" Tom teased.

"No. We get fresh churned butter at this really awesome farmer's market down the street from out apartment. We do most of our shopping there. Jimmy's really picky about what he eats," Ben continued unabated. He got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment, and murmured, "Man, those pancakes were incredible. You'd almost think I just kept coming back to him for the food, except he doesn't cook often enough. Most nights he makes me fend for myself or we order out."

"Well, Jimmy, we might have to get you to cook us something while you're here," Tom decided, still giving Jimmy an appraising look.

Jimmy shrugged, and mumbled agreement, "Okay."

"Meanwhile, I hope your mother's cooking will suffice, Ben, in light of all the amazing food you've apparently eaten recently," Tom remarked, "From the sounds of things, you've corrupted my son, Jimmy. We always tried to shield our boys from learning that food could actually taste good, his mother will be devastated."

"Oh," Jimmy flinched. Though there wasn't actually any malice in Tom's words, Jimmy took them to mean he'd somehow insulted the Mason patriarch with Ben's overpraising.

"You can't blame it all on him, dad, I always had my suspicions," Ben joked, taking another gulp of the hot cocoa in his hand. He then set it on the table and motioned for Jimmy to follow, "Matt's done upstairs. We should take our bags up and start settling in."

Jimmy nodded, trudging after Ben into the foyer to gather their luggage off the ground, and then climbing the stairs. Ben opened the bedroom door and they stumbled inside. Ben immediately dropped the bags he carried. The room wasn't very large. There was a twin sized bed, a bookshelf, a dresser, and an entertainment deck sporting several game consoles with a flat screen mounted on the wall above it. Jimmy maneuvered inside, setting his duffle on the bed and tentatively exploring, as Ben shut the door behind them. There was an assortment of painted clay figurines on the top of the bookshelf, and Jimmy made a face at the tiny creatures assembled.

"What the hell are these things?" he wondered.

"Oh…uh…ahem…probably Matt's…toys…that he left in here…stupid things," Ben stammered sheepishly. He crossed the room, pushing Jimmy's bags off the bed and flopping onto the mattress. He sighed, "I'm so tired. Coming home is way too much work."

Jimmy remained silent. He plucked his duffle off the ground and set it at the foot of the bed, opening it and rummaging inside. He started pulling clothes out and hanging them in the closet. Ben watched him a moment.

"Why are you unpacking everything? We're only here a week. Just take out the dress clothes," Ben said, propping himself up on an elbow.

Jimmy didn't reply, continuing to take items out of his bag and carefully tucking them into drawers and hanging them up.

"Hey, you okay?" Ben asked, concern edging his tone.

Jimmy paused, smoothing the wrinkles from a dress shirt he was slipping onto a hanger.

"Baby?" Ben pressed, standing up from the bed and crossing over to slip his arms round Jimmy's waist from behind, kissing Jimmy's cheek, "What's wrong?"

"Your dad hates me," Jimmy muttered.

"He does not," Ben objected, bemused, "He just met you."

Jimmy rolled his eyes, squirming out of Ben's grasp and continuing his unpacking, "That's all it takes. I don't talk enough, I cook better than his wife, and I'm sleeping with his son. He hates me."

"My dad doesn't hate you," Ben insisted. He closed the distance between them, cupping Jimmy's cheeks in his hands and saying wisely, "He doesn't _know_ you. Trust me, once my dad gets to know you, he's going to like you."

"You can't be sure of that," Jimmy muttered.

"I can. Because you're impossible not to like," Ben steadily informed Jimmy, then dragged him into a kiss.

They broke apart and Ben grinned cheekily.

"You know, I've never gotten lucky in this room," he wistfully remarked, guiding Jimmy towards the bed as he suggested, "Well, babe, what do you say we get settled in?"


	5. Chapter 5

V.

Rebekah had started dinner a couple hours later when the boys wandered back downstairs. They'd changed into lighter clothes and looked more refreshed. Ben led the way, Jimmy trailing behind clutching his hand, when they entered the family room. Hal and his wife, a petite blonde, were sitting on the sofa chatting with Rebekah and Tom, sitting across from them on a reclining chair. A baby basket was set up on the coffee table, Hal's son sitting wide eyed, staring out from inside of it.

"There you two are. We were beginning to think we lost you. We were just now discussing sending out a search party," Tom called when he noticed the boys, all attention in the room shifting their direction.

"Yeah, we got our stuff straightened out, then laid down for a bit," Ben explained, and Jimmy ducked his head to hide the blush, "Flight took more out of us than we thought."

"Hi, Ben, it's been awhile," the blonde woman spoke up, smiling demurely and lifting herself off the couch to give Ben a quick hug and peck on the cheek.

"Hey, you were sleeping when we got here," Ben greeted, "Karen, this is Jimmy. Jimmy, Hal's wife, Karen."

"It's nice to finally meet you," Karen declared. She offered her hand and Jimmy accepted, giving it a small shake.

Ben left them standing in the entry way, bounding into the family room and squatting down to get a look at his nephew, making soft cooing noises, and gently stroking the baby's forehead.

"You're practically all Ben can talk about lately. It's good to finally have a face to put with the name," Karen went on.

"Likewise," Jimmy returned.

They moved to join the others. Karen returned to her seat with Hal and Jimmy hovered uncertainly at the edge of the sofa, watching Ben waggling his fingers in his nephew's face.

"So, Ben, Jimmy, what're your plans while in town?" Tom inquired, "I mean, I'm sure you don't plan on sticking around here all week. And Jimmy's family will probably want to see him sometime."

"Uh…yeah…we're pretty booked these next few days, actually," Ben spoke up, lifting himself off the floor and standing next to Jimmy, "We are supposed to go out later tonight, actually, and meet up with some of Jimmy's old friends. Then, we're meeting Marty and Hatchet – er, Eddie, I mean, for lunch tomorrow. The night after that we have dinner with Jimmy's parents, and then they have some Christmas party thing that they do on Christmas Eve that we're supposed to go to…"

"You won't be here Christmas Eve?" Rebekah cut in, pouting.

"Erm…we don't really have to go to that party," Jimmy whispered to Ben.

"No, we'll go," Ben replied, promising his mother, "We'll be here Christmas morning."

"Oh, well, love, we have to get used to sharing our children. We went through this with Hal, now it's Ben's turn," Tom said teasingly.

Rebekah sighed, "Alright. I guess we were lucky that you boys chose us to stay with, I'm sure Jimmy's parents tried tempting you with a room at their house too, we'll be gracious and let them have our son for a couple days."

Jimmy wrinkled his brow, making a small noise in the back of his throat, and Ben glanced curiously at him. If his parents had offered a room, he never mentioned it, just instructing Ben rather vehemently to book a hotel.

"Hey, boys, why don't you grab the futon out of the office," Tom suggested, "So Ben and Jimmy can take a seat."

"Sure, dad," Ben and Hal piped haggardly, clambering to their feet and starting for the office, Jimmy moved to follow but Ben told him quietly, "Sit on the sofa, I'll be back in a sec."

"I'm going to go check on the chicken," Rebekah declared, briskly disappearing into the kitchen. Jimmy sunk onto the sofa next to Karen. He glanced the baby on the coffee table, pulled a quick face, and turned from it. Karen lifted herself up slightly, picking her son up from the basket and sitting back on the couch, cradling him against her breast.

"So, Jimmy, how did you and Ben meet? He said you two don't have any classes together," Karen asked and Tom sat up a bit, peering curiously at Jimmy as well.

"Um…he was having trouble in a class. His professor recommended me as a tutor," Jimmy explained.

Tom raised a brow, looking suddenly suspicious.

"That doesn't sound like Ben, to be struggling with a class. What class was it?" he asked.

"Linear algebra," Jimmy supplied.

Tom leaned back, nodding as though it were to be expected, "He always had to spend extra time studying for his math classes. He wouldn't let himself get anything less than an A."

"And then what, you guys like fell in love while crunching numbers?" Karen mused.

"No," Jimmy answered, taken aback, "I only tutored him for two weeks."

"Why is that?" Tom asked.

"I punched him," Jimmy answered easily, then faltered, eyes widening when he realized the words that just rolled off his tongue. Tom leaned forward, a look of incredulous on his face, as Karen covered her mouth in surprise.

"You punched my son?" Tom demanded. Although he sounded more stunned than angry about that confession, Jimmy flinched back ashamed all the same, groping around his mind for an explanation. It was then that Hal and Ben returned, wrestling the futon into the family room. They dropped the awkwardly shaped furniture piece on the ground and struggled to catch their breath.

"What are you guys talking about?" Ben asked, the brothers looking curiously around the room at the assortment of expressions, from Jimmy's abashed to their father's shocked to Karen, completely at a loss.

"How you and Jimmy met," Tom answered, as Rebekah wandered back into the room as well, joining her husband at his chair and curiously looking at each of her family members.

"Really?" Ben perked a brow, glancing at Jimmy. Jimmy hung his head, arms folded nervously over his chest.

"Yes. Really. Jimmy was just now explaining to us why he stopped tutoring you in math," Tom explained.

"Really?" Ben repeated. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember all of the details, then his brow jumped high and he exclaimed, "Oh yeah! He gave me a black eye."

"A black eye?" Tom cried, "Ben, son, I don't think I like the level of violence involved in the beginning of this relationship."

"What?" Ben gaped, then flickering a look at Jimmy, "What exactly did he tell you?"

"Only that he was tutoring you in math but he stopped after he hit you," Tom clarified, "And while I'd like to know why he hit you…"

"Whoa, wait, what happened?" Hal cried, half-chuckling.

"No, dad, calm down, you've got it all wrong," Ben said, he rolled his eyes and laughed, "Babe, what have I told you? You have to tell people the whole story."

Jimmy shrugged, "What else is there?"

Ben sighed, plopping onto the futon he and Hal had dropped unceremoniously in the middle of the family room and leaned forward on his knees, looking out at his family in exasperation.

"Look, okay, here's exactly what happened," Ben announced, all eyes on him as he rattled off the story, "I got a really terrible grade on my first exam in my math class, so I started hardcore studying every night for that class, took the second exam, failed it. I know, mom, dad, I know…but I asked my professor for help, he told me to get a tutor and that he would let me retake the exams and average the scores between the retakes and the originals for final grades. Then, on a whim I guess, he gave me Jimmy's name and campus email. He told me Jimmy was a freshman that year that tested out of like the first three core math classes, and was the only student in his Calc III class that was acing it, and by acing, I mean, he got a perfect score. I shot him an email, asked him to tutor me, but he said 'no'. So I went through the school, they set me up with this one tutor, Lloyd or Floyd – I don't even remember his name, he was terrible. He was obnoxious, pompous, conceited, and he couldn't explain how to solve a math problem to save his life.

"So, I got desperate, I started emailing Jimmy problems, I figured typing it all out might help me think through it, and sending it couldn't hurt anything, that at the very most, all I'd be doing was annoying someone I would probably never meet anyways, at the very least all he had to do was set my email address to spam and forget about it. For whatever reason, Jimmy started replying and he was way better with explanations. I ended up going to tutoring sessions with Lloyd during the day, then going back over everything with Jimmy in email at night, and finally felt like I might be getting it. This went on for like two weeks, and then one day Lloyd told me to do something one way that Jimmy had shown me to do another way, but Jimmy's way made more sense so I kept doing it that way, and Lloyd got mad, chewed me out about why I was doing it 'wrong' for like half-an-hour, and I didn't understand what he was saying, so when he told me to do it the way he showed me, I did. And that's how I failed my first retake. That night I sent Jimmy this huge email ranting about it.

"You know, at that point, I had kind of started to forget that there was someone actually receiving those emails and replying. I was just letting off steam; I didn't expect anything to come of it. But the next day, when I had my tutoring session with Lloyd, Jimmy showed up. I had no clue who Jimmy was when I first saw him, he certainly didn't look the way I expected some reclusive math genius to look, I thought at first he was someone else Lloyd tutored not happy with the service, but then, and I swear to God this is the truth, they just started yelling at each other in math. It turned out they knew each other, Lloyd had been the resident golden boy of the math department until Jimmy enrolled, and the only reason Lloyd told me to solve those problems a different way was because he figured out through the techniques I was using that Jimmy was helping me out. Jimmy basically accused Lloyd of purposely sabotaging me to get to him. Lloyd took a swing at him, missed, and when Jimmy went to hit him back, I got in the way trying to break them up and Jimmy accidentally punched me…knocked me out. I came to a minute later, and first thing I saw was Jimmy."

Ben sighed, rubbed a hand across his eyes and looked out at everyone. Karen and his mom were smiling softly, his dad was relaxed back in the chair seemingly deep in thought over the story, Hal was trying not to appear too interested, and Jimmy was slumped back on the sofa, flustered, face buried in his hand. Ben smirked at the other boy.

"Best sight I ever woke up to," he murmured quietly, then concluded, "It was an accident, dad, he was trying to stick up for me and I got in the way."

"Alright, son, you're right. I suppose the level of violence at the start of this relationship was acceptable," Tom allotted, glancing at Jimmy, "Though I certainly hope that's the only time you've punched my son."

Jimmy winced and sunk deeper into the sofa but said nothing.

"So then, why did he stop tutoring you?" Hal asked, and then rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and added, "Just because it sounds stupid that he'd stop if he didn't mean to hit you."

"Oh," Ben shrugged, "That's because when the professor found out what Lloyd had done, he let me drop the class, I got my money back, and he gave me special enrollment priority for the class next semester; the university okay-ed it because it was their tutor that screwed me over. The next semester, I just reviewed all of the emails and I passed the class without any additional help."

"So then, was it love at first sight and everything fell into place from there or what?" Karen prompted.

"Or what. After Jimmy punched me, I didn't see him again for like three months. I sent him emails, but he never replied," Ben answered.

"Well, that sounds like another story that you will definitely need to share with everyone, baby, but later," Rebekah announced, "Dinner is ready. And I believe you two boys had somewhere to be later tonight."

Everyone started shuffling from the room towards the dining area, except Ben caught hold of Jimmy's elbow, waiting until the others were gone, before wrapping him in an embrace and capturing his mouth in a tender kiss.

"See, whole story helps," Ben murmured against Jimmy's lips.

"I gave the Cliff's Notes version," Jimmy replied cheekily, "Besides, you tell it better."

"That's because you don't tell it at all," Ben teased, kissing Jimmy again. They parted, and Ben snatched Jimmy's hand, dragging him to the dinner table.

* * *

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.

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A/N: Two things about this chapter. Bwahahahahahahah! I chose Karen to be Hal's wife because I definitely wanted her to be a Falling Skies character, of the femme fatales we meet on Falling Skies she seemed the most likely for Hal to meet and marry in an alternate 'skies never fell universe', I wanted to see reactions, and I liked Karen. She was spunky. And I got to play in a little joke later on down the line.

Also, the story of how Ben and Jimmy met in this is different than the one the boys conjured up together in Fire Light for one main reason, shout out to WhisperMaw who thought it more likely Jimmy would've had to tutor Ben in math. Also, because the fantasy dreamed up in Fire Light was really just that, a fantasy, created by Ben, so it was all biased to how he wanted things to go. Am I making sense. Fuck, I'm tired.

BLAH! Please review? Oh, what do I care. No, I care! I care!


	6. Chapter 6

VI.

After leaving their car rental in a parking garage, Jimmy led the way down the street and up towards one of the high-rise buildings, almost fifteen stories tall, its walls lined in polished windows reflected black into the dead night. Ben forced Jimmy to a halt, grabbing his wrist to hold him in place, as Ben gaped up at the towering building, his mouth unhinged.

"Your friend lives here?" Ben demanded.

"Yeah," Jimmy confirmed.

"In a loft apartment. By himself?" Ben pressed.

"Yeah," Jimmy said, then shrugged, "His parents pay for it."

Ben blinked once, disbelieving. Jimmy sighed.

"Listen, his sister died like five years back in a car wreck. His parents were away on business in some mountain in Thailand for three weeks when it happened and couldn't be contacted so he basically had to make all the arrangements himself," Jimmy whispered explanation, though they were the only ones on the street, "I guess they felt bad about not being there for him so when he turned eighteen they bought him this loft."

"Oh yeah, that makes total sense," Ben murmured sarcastically, "That's kind of like when my goldfish died when I was five and my parents felt bad about it and bought me an ice cream cone."

Jimmy smirked, turned to start for the building again, and hesitated. He frowned, and took a deep breath, taking Ben's hand in his own and giving it a squeeze.

"You okay?" Ben wondered.

"Yeah, fine," Jimmy assured him. He attempted to move forward again, paused, turned around and walked back a few paces, shaking his head at the ground.

"You don't look fine," Ben pointed out.

"No, I am…it's just…" Jimmy sighed, and looked at Ben long and hard, then glared up at the building.

"Do you not want to do this?" Ben guessed.

"No…yes…I don't know," Jimmy replied.

"Why? You embarrassed of me or something?" Ben teased, though there was a slight hint of pain in his words.

"No," Jimmy firmly answered, moving forward to put his arms round Ben's waist and placing a kiss on his lips, "It's not you. I'm definitely not embarrassed by you. It's just that…these are my four oldest friends in the world. We all met in preschool and we will all probably deliver eulogies at one another's funerals, if we don't all die on the same day doing the same stupid stunt together. They know more about me, and every terrible thing I've ever done in my life, than God. I just…"

Jimmy sighed. He took a step back and took Ben's hands in his own.

"You love me, right?" Jimmy questioned.

"Of course I do," Ben affirmed.

"Good. No matter what happens tonight, please…just…remember that," Jimmy said.

Ben nodded, confusion riddled in his expression, but he didn't press the subject. Jimmy tore away and strode up to the building, Ben following hastily behind. Jimmy gave his name to the doorman and they rode the elevator up to the top of the building. Then Jimmy walked briskly up to a door and knocked. Ben came to stand beside him.

As soon as they had entered the building, Ben seemed trapped in a perpetual state of wonder, his eyes trailing over the richly decorated hallways and polished elevators. He barely registered when the door clicked and swung open, but a POP, a shimmering spray of liquid that smelled strongly of sugar and alcohol, and the gleeful battle cry of some strange, plump boy wielding a spurting champagne bottle, certainly knocked Ben hard back into reality.

Both Ben and Jimmy stood paralyzed on the doorstep until the champagne stop falling overhead. Ben was stunned, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, but Jimmy merely looked irritated, his expression like one who'd expected so much but had hoped for better.

The plump boy just stood laughing at the two in the doorway, more uproarious laughter could be heard inside, until someone shouted, "What the fuck, Gary? I told you not to answer my door, you douchebag."

Then some bundle of cloth flew through the air and smacked the boy in the bottom.

"Dude, shithead, chill out, James is here," someone else shouted response inside.

"With his _lo_ver," another voice crooned, and more laughter erupted.

"Oh man, you should see your guys' faces," the boy in the doorway, Gary, chuckled, "That was too awesome!"

"Are you wasting my champagne, you dumbass?"

"Are you listening to what you're worried about, dumbass? Start bitching when he goes for the vodka. Shit."

"Fuck you. You're making a mess on my floor. Get the fuck in here."

"Don't get mad at me," Gary whined, "It was Kevin's idea."

"But you're the idiot that went through with it, wise guy."

"Is this why you told me not to wear my good shirt?" Ben quietly asked Jimmy.

Jimmy took a deep breath, let it out slow. He stepped forward, punched Gary once on the shoulder, it made a good smacking noise, then pushed past into the loft.

"Ow, shit, James, that hurt! What'd you do that for? It was just a joke," Gary whined, "God, what? Did you lose your sense of humor at college or something?"

"That would imply he had a sense of humor to begin with," one of the other boys commented in a mock 1930s trans-continental accent.

Ben tentatively followed Jimmy inside and Gary slammed the door shut behind them. The interior of the loft was just as lavish as the hallways. It was wide and spacious, decorated with high-end furniture, a projector television, expensive sound system, and large abstract paintings. There looked to be a pool table in the back, and a balcony that pointed to the city skyline. There were four boys inside. Gary, who whimpered and waddled back towards the kitchen area where there was a full bar and a blond boy fixing a drink, a boy with a head of thick black curls smoking a cigarette by the open balcony door, and a dark featured boy lounging on the couch.

"Everyone, Ben," Jimmy bellowed, gesturing at Ben, then muttering to Ben as he pointed to each boy, "Lenny," the dark-featured boy, "Kevin," the one smoking at the window, "Ryan," the blond fixing a drink, "And you met Gary."

"What the fuck, James?" Lenny called as soon as introductions were over, straightening and outstretching a hand that Jimmy crossed the room to smack his own hand against and clasp momentarily, "You don't write, you don't call. I feel like some bitch you knocked up and then paid to have an abortion."

"Because you know all about abortion," Jimmy returned smartly, "How many kids you got now, Lenny?"

"No, the correct question is, 'how many kids _should_ Lenny have now?'. Tsk-tsk, young man, and here we all thought you were a devout Catholic, Leonard, you are going straight to hell," Kevin jeered from around his cigarette. He took a long drawl and blew the smoke out the door.

"You say that as if there were some kind of fucking debate about it or something," Jimmy replied, then both he and Kevin grinned winningly at Lenny.

"Well, that's great then, I'll see you both there. We'll pass the pipe with Satan," Lenny told them.

Jimmy maneuvered around the couch that Lenny lounged on to bump fists with Kevin in passing and then climbed up towards the bar to greet Ryan.

"Hey, man, I didn't think you were going to show," Ryan said, pausing in pouring vodka into a martini shaker to give Jimmy a quick one-armed hug. He had a peppermint cane dangling off his lip. He returned to the drink he was mixing and asked, "What're you drinking tonight?"

"I don't know," Jimmy answered, "Probably just beer. I don't want to go back to Ben's parents' tonight shitfaced and spend the next morning hung over, you know, bad impression. Not that I've made that great an impression so far."

Ryan raised a brow and commented, "You're staying with his parents? What the fuck, man, I thought you were staying at a hotel?"

"Yeah, me too," Jimmy muttered, glancing over his shoulder at Ben still standing stunned in the entry way, "But his parents threw a tantrum about it, I guess, and he caved. He didn't even tell me until we got here."

"Shit, what's that like?" Ryan wondered, as he popped the cap on the shaker and rapidly rattled it back and forth in his hands.

"Weird. They're a nice family. Way too nice. I sort of figured they'd be, what with how he is," Jimmy answered in a low voice, "It's cramped. It's a small house, and a lot of people. We're staying in his old bedroom and when we're in there I can hear his family talking downstairs. He doesn't even notice, either, he wanted to fool around earlier, and when I could hear them, all I could think was if they could hear us and…no, it wasn't going to happen."

Ryan looked surprised at that admission, "His parents know about you…?"

"Yeah," Jimmy confirmed quietly, and then grumbled, "And they're even way too nice about _that_."

"Well, Lenny is going to be seriously disappointed. He was planning a hotel party, wanted to crash your room in the middle of the night," Ryan remarked, dumping the contents of his martini shaker into a glass. He handed it over to Gary, waiting patient and silent at the edge of the counter, listening to his friends chatting.

"Figures," Jimmy muttered, and then dropped his voice and asked, "You remember what I said over the phone, right?"

"About…?" Ryan questioned, reaching into a small fridge under the bar counter and retrieving a beer. There was a bottle cap remover built into the counter top and he used it to open the bottle, handing it over to Jimmy. Jimmy took it, rested it on the counter.

"About Ben," Jimmy persisted impatiently, "Remember that I told you he's pretty straight edge."

"So keep the bong in the back room?" Ryan returned, teasing.

Jimmy sighed, and glared.

"Ryan," he hissed warningly, "Not tonight, okay? Please, not tonight?"

"Whatever, man," Ryan mumbled, rolled his eyes and muttering, "We'll put on airs for your uptight boyfriend."


	7. Chapter 7

VII.

Ben took a moment to process his surroundings, and then he took a deep breath and wandered down towards Lenny and Kevin. He forced a friendly smile into place and nodded at the two boys now surveying him unimpressed.

"Hi, I'm Ben," he started.

"We know, dumbass, we got ears you know," Kevin said, snickering and sucking another hit off his cigarette, shooting it outdoors. Ben nodded stiffly. Right, Jimmy just told them all his name. He covered his mouth and nose, despite most of the smoke being sent out doors, the chill wind swept some of it back in and it was starting to agitate Ben's asthma. Lenny picked a glass filled with ice and some blue colored liquid up off the nearby table and took a sip.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry," Ben stammered, attempting to muffle a cough, "Um…right."

"So," Lenny began, clearing his throat loudly, "_You_ are James's boy toy, then?"

"Uh…I guess," Ben mumbled, scrunching his brow. He didn't exactly like the wording, but he felt as though the other boy was just goading him and he knew better then to take the bait, "He tells me you've all been friends a long time."

"Well, that is true. Our whole fucking lives, actually. But that is funny, because he's told us absolutely nothing about you, Benny-boy," Lenny returned, "Of course, he didn't tell us he was a fag either, so..."

Ben frowned, his brow wrinkling as he took a step back and fought down the anger that surged through him, heat flooding his cheeks. He opened his mouth to respond, unsure of exactly what he would say, but knowing it would be vicious and certainly might not gain him any favor with Jimmy's friends, except then Gary joined them.

"You're not supposed to use that word, dipshit, politicians don't like it," Gary said, plopping on the couch beside Lenny with a glass filled to the brink with some golden liquid of his own.

"What the fuck are you talking about? A lot of politicians love that word," Lenny replied sharply, "I hear those assholes using it all the time at the conventions and galas and shit."

"You mean it's not P.C., dumbass," Kevin called from the door.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, yeah, not P.C.," Gary cheerily corrected himself, "You're supposed to use gay, or queer, or…or…or…is fairy okay? Because I've heard it wasn't okay, but then I've heard this one guy I know, he works with my mom, that's _really_ gay using it a lot so…"

"Shut up, Gary," Lenny and Kevin both muttered in unison.

A silence fell over them, the three good friends examining Ben as though he were the sideshow attraction at a circus. Ben shifted uncomfortably, searching for something to say, some means of starting a conversation, but drawing a blank. As far as he could tell, from their demeanors, their dialogue, he had next to nothing in common with those three boys aside from Jimmy.

"Tell me, something, Benny-boy," Lenny spoke up, leaning forward in his seat and eying Ben in a way he wasn't sure he liked, "You know, don't get me wrong, I have little interest in that kind of specific thing but I am curious, really, about all things in this general genre. What position do you play?"

Ben furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes, befuddled, at the other boy. Kevin smacked a hand over his face. Gary grinned stupidly.

"Position?" Ben repeated, uncertainly, "What do you mean…position playing what?"

"Lenny, you asshole, why the fuck would you ask him that?" Jimmy suddenly exploded from the other side of the room, starting towards them wearing an exceptionally angry expression.

A cruel smile spread across Lenny's face as he quickly rattled off explanation before Jimmy reached them, "What positions are there, dumbass? Top or bottom? Are you the giver or the taker? I mean, I could totally see James bottom, he's always been a wet pussy, but you don't strike me as being top, so maybe you're switch-hitters…?"

By then, Jimmy reached them, launching an attack on Lenny, swinging his fist at Lenny several times, connecting a couple punches here and there, as the boy struggled to defend himself and keep the majority of his drink in his glass. Kevin and Gary were both laughing hysterically, and Ben just stood by, beet red in the face and feeling as though he'd just been slammed by a dump truck.

"Shit, it was just a joke, James, it was just a joke," Lenny complained.

Jimmy let up, straightening and glaring at the other boy, "Fuck you, asshole."

"Jesus Christ, you made me spill my drink…you owe me an AMF, asshole," Lenny griped, the blue liquid dripping off his hand and onto the couch and floor.

Ryan sidled up next to the group, chuckling under his breath, and Ben blinked back his embarrassment. He was starting to get a feel for the group, it seemed they were all loud-mouthed jerks but otherwise harmless. He got his bearings straight and decided to take the opportunity to be polite and introduce himself to the host while James and his friends busily exchanged insults and witty jabs.

"Hi. Ryan, right?" Ben began, taking a step towards the blond and extending a hand. The blond gave him a cool look, his gray eyes biting like an icy winter wind. He dropped his gaze briefly to consider Ben's hand, made no move to accept it, and turned his attention away once more.

"Right," the blond confirmed stiffly, "And you're Ben."

Ben pulled his rejected hand back and tucked it absently into his pocket, heart pounding furious against his chest.

"Yes. I mean, yeah, I am. Jimmy's told me a lot about you. He says you're his best friend, that you've always been there for him," Ben continued, pushing the tremble from his words. He smirked and joked, "If I didn't know better, I'd almost get jealous every time he mentions you."

Ryan snorted softly, a wry smile on his lip.

"This is a nice place," Ben tried again. He covered his mouth and coughed haggardly. It seemed Lenny had lit a cigarette now, but he made no move to blow it out onto the balcony like Kevin. The smoke was quickly filling the small area, putting a death grip on Ben's lungs.

"Fuck, Lenny, put that out," Jimmy complained.

"What? Why? First you spill my drink, then you snub my smokes? What the hell's your problem, shithead? You went to college and turned into a pod person?" Lenny shot back.

"It's not his problem, it's Ben's," Ryan provided, and though his tone sounded cheerful, he darted a sneer Ben's direction.

"No, it's fine," Ben told them, though his coughing in between words made them less convincing, "I'm okay with it. I don't want to put anyone out."

"Oh, so you're one of those…those...uh…liberal cunts," Lenny said knowingly, "Obnoxious self-righteous assholes that like to tell people how to live their lives. Please, share with me, what are the dangers that smoking poses to my health?"

"Wait? What do you do when James needs a smoke? Do you make him go outside? James, seriously, do you go sit outside for a cigarette in your own apartment like a whipped bitch?" Kevin wondered.

"I quit," Jimmy quietly confessed.

"You quit," Lenny gaped, "Fuck, you been smoking longer than me."

"Wait, when did that happen?" Ryan asked slyly, "Because you were smoking a few months ago, when we took that weekend trip to Mexico."

"Trip to Mexico?" Ben repeated, stunned. He didn't recall Jimmy ever mentioning a trip to Mexico, though Jimmy did leave town for a few days once, said he had to visit family.

Jimmy's eyes went wide and he darted a look to Ben, then to Ryan, shaking his head furiously. Ben glanced surprised at Jimmy, feeling strangely hurt, not just by the secret trip but by the inference that Jimmy may have smoked on that trip, as though Ben were some authority figure that Jimmy had to rebel against.

"Or wait, is it only cigarettes that count," Ryan finished, grinning impishly.

"Only cigarettes…what does that mean?" Ben asked, looking inquisitively at Jimmy.

"He's joking," Jimmy quickly said, then glared threateningly at Ryan, and grit out, "You're joking, right?"

"Sure. I'm joking," Ryan muttered, and then quipped, "He totally turned down the blunt we were passing around in Tijuana. He wasn't blazed at all."

"What the fuck," Jimmy hissed.

"I think I'm going to go stand outside for a bit," Ben excused himself between hacking coughs. He was starting to wheeze and it was never a good sign when he started to wheeze. He strode swiftly to the balcony door and slipped out. Jimmy glared at Ryan, letting his blood simmer a moment as he chewed his inner cheek hard on all the rage rippling on his tongue, before pulling himself up and heading out to the balcony as well.

Outside, leaning heavily against the balcony banister, Ben attempted to push the smoke from his lungs and suck in clean, crisp air. He straightened slightly at a ginger touch to his shoulder.

"You okay, babe? You need your inhaler?" Jimmy tentatively questioned, concern edging his tone. Ben shook his head, coughing a few last times, before turning to smirk crookedly at the other boy.

"I'm fine," he croaked, cleared his throat, and in a more natural voice said, "I just needed air. That was a lot of smoke for one cigarette."

"Yeah, Lenny likes to smoke those cigarillo pieces of shit," Jimmy muttered, rubbing Ben's back, "I'm sorry about them."

"No. Why? What? They're okay…they're…"

"They're assholes," Jimmy grumbled.

"They're just getting used to me. I mean you put up with my family, I can put up with your friends. This is them warming up to me, I get it," Ben said, "It's fine."

"It's not fine," Jimmy returned sharply. He looked to be arguing something in his mind a moment, then he shook his head, snorted softly, spun on heel heading back towards the apartment and grumbled, "It's really not fine."


	8. Chapter 8

VIII.

Stepping inside, Jimmy pushed past Kevin, considered Gary and Lenny – still smoking, on the couch. All of them paused in their conversation to look wide-eyed at Jimmy, and then Jimmy bee-lined for Ryan back at the bar mixing a new drink. Ryan only glanced at Jimmy approaching, not once hesitating as he dumped alcohol from different bottles into the shaker.

"Does he want something to drink, or is he too high and mighty for that too?" Ryan asked.

"Tell Lenny to put out the cigarette," Jimmy demanded.

Ryan blinked once, and then smirked up amused at Jimmy, "Why don't you tell Lenny to put out the cigarette? Oh wait, because you tried that and he already said no."

"He'll listen to you, this is your place," Jimmy insisted. He slammed his hand against the bar counter and growled, "Ben has asthma, that's why you guys can't smoke around him. He can't breathe in here."

Ryan capped the shaker and gave it a rattle, then he dumped its contents in a glass. He took a sip of it and smacked his lips.

"Well maybe you should've said something sooner. What am I supposed to do now, James? I can't give priority to one guest over another. One of them has to go outside, and Lenny lit his cigarette in here first."

"If you tell Lenny to smoke outside, he might smoke one or two cigarettes tonight, if you let him stay in here smoking, he will chain smoke all fucking night and you know it," Jimmy raged, "And Ben will be stuck outside all night."

"He doesn't have to stay outside. It's a big loft, he can find somewhere to stand that's away from the smoke," Ryan returned.

"And away from everyone else," Jimmy pointed out. He narrowed his eyes on the other boy and demanded, "Why are you being like this?"

"Why are you being like this?" Ryan shot back, "I'm being myself. We're all being ourselves, you're the one that's acting like a completely different person, and acting like we should be completely different people too."

"I didn't ask you to be anything. All I asked was that you guys not smoke inside tonight. For one fucking night," Jimmy protested.

"And to pretend we aren't potheads? That we don't ditch class to light up? That we don't say whatever comes to mind, who the fuck cares if our grandma or anyone else's is listening, and that we can, and most definitely will ask questions that might embarrass your delicate little darling," Ryan seethed. He blew the air from his lungs and in an almost plea, asked, "What are you doing with this dweeb? I mean, seriously, look at him. Is he wearing a button up and, for crying out loud, are all of the buttons done up? We used to make fun of tools like him. We," he indicted himself and the other three, "Still do. This is who we are, and until you met that douchebag, this is who you were too."

Jimmy tipped his chin down, glared at the floor and murmured, "Okay," then he spun away and strode back towards balcony. He heard Ryan following, but he ignored it, tossed the door wide open and called out, "Come on, Ben, we're leaving."

"Oh shit," Gary gaped, as Kevin buried his head in his head and muttered, "Fuck."

"What? Why? What's going on?" Ben wondered, standing against the balcony banister and tilted towards Jimmy with a curious expression.

"James, wait, nobody wants you to go," Ryan pleaded.

Jimmy crossed the balcony and grabbed Ben's hand, dragging him towards the apartment.

"Nothing is going on. We're just leaving," he grumbled. Ryan filled the doorway, blocking their path, putting a hand on Jimmy's chest to push him back.

"Wait, look, fuck, will you wait," Ryan cried, "Will you listen? I don't want you to leave; I want to hang out with my friend, my best friend. I never get to see you anymore, you live on the other side of the fucking country. I want to hang out with you, but fuck; I can't even talk to you. I mean, how'm I supposed to talk to you, when I got to watch everything coming out of my mouth because you might not want him to know about it."

"No, I understand," Jimmy bit out, shaking his head and glaring up at Ryan, "If you're problem was with me, then fine, whatever. But you're problem is with Ben. So you think what? That you can just drive him away and I won't even notice, I'll stick around? Let me make this clear, are you listening, simplest terms, if Ben goes, I go with him. Make the choice now."

A hush fell over the group. Ben had his eyes locked on Jimmy, everyone else stared at Ryan. Ryan glared at the ground, weighing his options, shaking his head, his frustrations written in his face and the red of his tear-rimmed eyes. After a moment, he turned around and marched back into the apartment.

"Put out your fucking cigarette, Lenny," Ryan growled in passing.

"What? Why?" Lenny complained.

"Because I told you assholes, we're not smoking inside tonight. If you want a smoke, go outside," Ryan returned.

"What? But it's freezing out there," Lenny griped, though he stubbed out his cigarette despite.

All the tension Jimmy didn't realize he'd been holding inside since arriving at the loft simply left him at once in that moment. He could feel Ben beside him, studying him, and there was something overwhelmingly comforting in that feeling. He moved, turning to lean his forehead against Ben's shoulder and Ben rest a hand warm round the back of his neck.

"Everything okay?" Ben questioned.

"Yeah," Jimmy confirmed. He pulled back and smiled up at Ben, "Everything is okay."

Once the smoke had cleared from inside, Jimmy and Ben moved back into the apartment and joined the other boys on the couch. Kevin and Lenny hassled Ben most of the night, though Gary seemed to become increasingly infatuated with every word that came out of Ben's mouth, and every drop of alcohol that went into his own, repeating constantly, "Wow, you're so fucking smart, man."

Ryan didn't say much for the rest of the night. He mixed drinks for everyone, added comments here and there to stories the boys shared from over the year, but mostly he sat in the corner of the couch sipping on beer. When it came time to leave, Ben moved to wait at the door, Kevin and Lenny still ragging on him, as Gary and Jimmy carried a few empty bottles into the kitchen area. Jimmy glanced at Ryan, sitting on the couch unmoved.

"Don't take it too personal," Gary recommended, rinsing out a couple of the bottles in the sink, "He's been pretty moody since that prick, Paul, basically ripped his heart out a few months ago. Lenny wanted to kick the guy's ass, but Ryan begged him not to. So we egged his house instead, don't tell Ryan. I guess you showing up here all happy and in love with Ben was kind of like rubbing peppers in the wounds or whatever."

As Gary spoke, Jimmy had stared at him with increasing surprise, until finally he was gaping as though Gary had grown another head, "Paul? Who the fuck is Paul?"

Gary face went pale. He looked at Jimmy as though a child with his hand trapped in the cookie jar.

"Oh shit," he mumbled, "I thought you knew."

Jimmy sighed, setting the bottles in his hand down on the counter and walking away. Hesitantly, he made his way to the couch and took a seat next to Ryan. Ryan didn't so much as look at Jimmy, taking a sip of the beer in his hand instead.

"We're taking off, but…um…I'll call you later this week, okay," Jimmy said quietly, "We'll hang out again sometime before I go back to school. Just me and you, too, I promise. I'll leave Ben with his brothers, they keep talking about needing bonding time, which from what I've seen of brothers together, I take it to mean they're going to beat each other up. They mentioned hockey, so I might not be too far off."

"Whatever," Ryan mumbled, though he smiled faintly at the offer.

"And we can talk and catch up," Jimmy continued, wistfully remarking, "You can tell me about Paul."

Ryan startled, his eyes darting up to meet Jimmy's. Jimmy half-smiled at him.

"Gary and his huge fucking mouth," Ryan muttered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jimmy asked.

"That all that time you weren't in the closet by yourself? I don't know, maybe I just thought you always knew," Ryan answered, shrugging. He sniffled, wiped a hand across his face, as if rubbing away unshed tears, "Or maybe I just didn't want you to know."

Jimmy sighed, "So you tell Lenny and Gary and Kevin first?"

"Lenny's known since we were kids. I told him when I figured it out in like the fifth grade," Ryan silently confessed, "Gary and Kev found out last year. You were just at school is all; otherwise you would have known then too. And how are you going to lecture me, you just told everyone, what, last week?" he snorted softly and remarked, "Hell, maybe I _should_ take pointers from you; you're way more ballsy than me. Who the fuck comes out to their oldest friends, 'oh yeah, I'll be free that night, is it cool if I bring my boyfriend? Yeah, I'm dating some guy now and we've been living together for the past five months, Merry Fucking Christmas, assholes'."

"It seemed like the easiest way to do it though I don't recall wishing you guys a Merry Christmas, I would never," Jimmy replied, shrugging, then frowned, "You really don't like Ben?"

"No, he's okay," Ryan groaned, "I hate you, though. He's cute, he's smart, he's sweet, and I don't think he took his eyes off you once all evening, so he's head over heels for you, and I bet he's loyal as a dog too. You bastard."

Jimmy glanced over his shoulder to the door, and Ben perked when their eyes met, smiling though waiting patiently.

"When did you figure it out?" Ryan asked, sheepishly saying, "I'm just curious. How long ago did you realize that you were…?"

"Huh? Uh…" Jimmy turned his attention back to Ryan and casually answered, "I guess when I asked Ben out."

"I really do hate you," Ryan griped, "Will you please leave now so I can get stoned? I need to numb the pain."

Jimmy grinned, then scowled and murmured, "I'll probably need to join you in a couple days."

Ryan perked a quizzical brow.

"I'm taking Ben to dinner at my parents'," Jimmy explained.

"Shit," Ryan whispered, "How much do they know?"

Jimmy shook his head, eyes on Ben again.

"Well, I guess I will be seeing you," Ryan said, "I'll save you the good stuff."

Out in the elevator, Jimmy took a hold of Ben's hand, leaning against the other boy. Ben turned to press a kiss to Jimmy's temple.

"I think you passed the test with my friends," Jimmy announced happily.

"Awesome," Ben smirked, and then faltered, "What if I hadn't?"

"Then I would've needed to find new friends."


	9. Chapter 9

IX.

Ben and Jimmy snuck into the house sometime after two. Jimmy fretted the whole time that every tiny noise they made could be heard by everyone sleeping inside, but Ben didn't pay it much mind. They climbed the stairs and started changing for bed.

"I really am sorry about my friends," Jimmy started, when Ben grabbed him from behind, mouth attaching immediately to the most available patch of flesh and hands fumbling with the top buttons of his pants.

"When are you going to stop apologizing about that?" Ben rumbled breathy against Jimmy's ear, nibbling the lobe, "Everything went fine. They were nice guys. I liked them."

"They were jerks to you," Jimmy replied, moaning softly in the back of his throat, his fingers interlacing with Ben's. He untangled himself from Ben's embrace, turning to face the other boy and drawing him into a firm kiss. Their lips parted, Ben's tongue dove in, tracing every contour of Jimmy's gum walls until Jimmy whimpered and they broke apart, gasping for breath and leaning into one another.

"Don't worry so much about it," Ben told Jimmy, trailing kisses along his jaw and up across his forehead, "Tomorrow you're going to meet my friends, and I promise, they will avenge me."

"You're such a dork," Jimmy laughed, working at un-tucking Ben's shirt and slipping his cold hands up underneath to ripple over smooth, warm skin, causing the other boy to shudder and kiss him hard and insistent, "I need to go brush my teeth."

"You need to finish taking off my clothes," Ben returned smartly, guiding Jimmy's hands to the buttons of his shirt.

"Your brother and his wife are sleeping right next door," Jimmy pointed out, though he didn't put up much of a struggle as Ben peeled away his own shirt, and then he started undoing the top buttons of Ben's shirt.

"Trust me, Hal deserves this," Ben replied, cringing, "You have no idea how many girls I had to listen to throughout my late teens, panting his name next door."

"Yeah, well," Jimmy whispered, pushing away Ben's shirt when the buttons were undone and lifting up the undershirt to expose Ben's belly and chest, then fluttering kisses along his sternum, "Unlike those girls, I actually want to be able to look your brother in the eye in the morning."

"You haven't looked my brother in the eye yet," Ben argued.

Jimmy released the shirt, it slid down most of the way, and he smacked Ben in the stomach. Ben grunted and doubled over slightly, grimacing. Jimmy spun away, digging his toothbrush and the bottle of paste from his bag and promptly exiting the room. Ben sighed, and slumped a moment. He finished taking his shirt off, and tossed it across the floor, then started undoing his pants, slipping them off and exchanging them for a pair of sweats. He looked for his own toothbrush, finding it when Jimmy returned, so he left to brush his teeth and by the time he got back, Jimmy had changed into his own night clothes, spirited away all of their dirty garments, and was sitting cross legged on the bed thumbing through a book he'd taken off one of the bookshelves. Ben sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward on his knees and rubbing his hands over his face.

"Are you sure you don't want to go over to your parents' house tomorrow?" Ben asked, "I mean, we'll have been here three days before you…"

"My mom said Monday night," Jimmy interrupted, closing the book and climbing off the bed to return it to the shelf, "So we'll see them Monday night."

"Well, still, we can just go over and…"

"She knows when our flight came in. She said Monday night," Jimmy replied, heading to the light switch, "Which side of the bed do you want?"

"Oh. I get a choice tonight?" Ben perked eagerly, "Because you always…"

"Forget it, you can sleep by the wall. I'll take the outside," Jimmy decided, flicking the lights off.

Ben rolled his eyes, pushing himself into the bed and pulling the covers back, sliding under. He heard Jimmy stumble across the room, and then slip into the covers. Ben's eyes adjusted to the low light, and he propped himself up and found Jimmy's wide eyes, anxiously scanning the ceiling. Ben wrapped his arms around Jimmy, settling against the other boy, his face nuzzling against Jimmy's neck. Jimmy closed his eyes and relaxed at Ben's warm touch.

"I just found out my best friend is gay," Jimmy quietly noted.

"Yeah, I know," Ben mumbled response.

Jimmy furrowed his brow, turning slightly so he could see Ben's eyes through the dark.

"What? How did you know?"

"It was kind of obvious," Ben said plainly.

"No. It wasn't obvious at all," Jimmy argued.

"Because nothing is obvious to you, baby," Ben grinned, pulling Jimmy to him and resting their lips together, murmuring there, "Because you are so very oblivious."

"I am not oblivious," Jimmy whined.

"Oh, so then you noticed he was jealous of me all night?"

"Well…okay, he told me afterwards but…"

"Because he's got a thing for you," Ben added.

"Well…that is…what? He does not."

"Yes. He does," Ben said firmly, pulling back and absently pushing the hair from Jimmy's face, "He got this sad look every time I touched you. He wouldn't even look at me."

"He just got out of a relationship," Jimmy protested, his heart hammering in his chest, his cheeks flushing. He was thankful the lights were out, he didn't want to explain his severe blush to Ben, "He was heartbroken."

"No. He was heartbroken when you told him you would leave with me," Ben countered softly. He smiled distantly and whispered, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone so crushed. Except maybe me, a year ago, when you said you could never love me."

Jimmy winced, turning onto his back to look sheepishly up at the ceiling as he mumbled, "Well…see…I just said that then…because…well…the thing was that…that I uh…"

"Were already in love with me?" Ben supplied.

"No," Jimmy snapped, then squirmed, "Maybe," then sighed, "Yes."

Jimmy scowled at the ceiling, playing back the night's events in his mind. He thought of his argument with Ryan, of Ryan's determination to push Ben away, then Ryan isolating himself when he failed, and then their conversation before Jimmy left: _to numb the pain._

"Shit," Jimmy grumbled, absently reaching for Ben's arms and securing them around himself, shifting so that he was more comfortably folded against the other boy, "And what am I supposed to do with that?"

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you," Ben lamented.

"No. It's good that you did," Jimmy replied haggardly.

"Because you never would have figured it out?" Ben teased.

"Shut up," Jimmy muttered. He closed his eyes and sighed, "I guess I'll deal with it tomorrow. Night, babe."

"Good night," Ben whispered reply, maneuvering to give Jimmy a quick peck on the lips, and then settling down. Both boys soon drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

X.

Jimmy woke early, long before Ben or, it seemed, any of the other Masons roused from sleep. For several tens of minutes, he lay in bed with Ben, studying Ben's features as the other boy slept peacefully, smiling faintly every now and then with every minute twitch of Ben's lip or squint of his eyes. But when it seemed Ben wouldn't be waking up anytime soon, and growing restless, Jimmy pulled some socks and a sweater on to shut out the chill air and slipped out of the bedroom, roaming downstairs. He poked around the family room a little bit, most of the boxes were cleaned up and pushed aside, and the futon Hal and Ben had dragged into the room arranged so it was nearby but otherwise out of the way, that way it could be used over the course of Ben and Jimmy's stay.

The brothers had decorated their family tree the night before, after dinner and before Ben and Jimmy left for Ryan's. Jimmy and Karen had watched on the couch as the brothers argued over which ornaments would go where, their parents hovering nearby. Rebekah took pictures, and the boys complained, covering their faces when she raised the camera, and their father scolded them for being difficult. Karen decided at some point that Jimmy must want to hold her baby, thrusting the soft, warm mass into his arms despite his stammered protests, and he sat on the couch putting more effort than should be necessary into not looking too disgruntled for a few minutes while awkwardly clutching the thing as the Masons all smiled toothily at him and Rebekah snapped several pictures. Then Ben hurried over to take the baby and Rebekah started talking about the process of adoption and Jimmy found himself wondering if they kept bleach under the counter in the kitchen and how long it would take for them to notice if he slipped off to drink it.

Now, Jimmy stood at the edge of the family room, arms wrapped tightly around his body, looking in at the room, and recalling those recent memories with a light smile and thundering heart. 'Family room', before that night, he'd never known what the term had meant. A room for the family, it had seemed absurd, yet he'd seen it with his own eyes, a family gathered together, enjoying one another. He dropped his head and sighed, and wandered away from the room, his heart growing heavy. One more day and Ben would meet his family.

Eventually, Jimmy found himself in the study. He scanned the books that lined the numerous bookshelves. They were mostly books about past wars; they seemed to be organized chronologically by the dates of those wars. In a glass case on one wall were several ancient looking guns, coated with a nice patina, and nearby were a few yellowing documents, from the looks of them, letters written by Thomas Jefferson and John Adams during the Revolutionary War. There was also a case filled with old military awards including a purple heart. Jimmy ghosted a finger over the glass of each case, carefully examining each object.

The door of the study swung open and Jimmy jumped, spinning round in surprise. Tom stood in the frame wearing a fuzzy blue robe, a steaming mug in his hand. His brow perked in surprise at the sight of Jimmy. Jimmy heart started jackhammering. He realized he probably shouldn't be in that room, Rebekah mentioned that Tom worked a lot in there, grading papers for school and writing his book. It was a private space.

Jimmy dropped his gaze and chewed his inner cheek, searching for an excuse, "Sorry…I was just…"

"No, I startled you. I'm sorry," Tom cut in, "I didn't know you were in here. I thought everyone was still asleep."

"Everyone _is_ still asleep," Jimmy noted.

Tom nodded, smirking. He took a sip from his mug and wandered into the room towards a desk pushed to one side. He shuffled through the papers there. Jimmy watched him, anxious and uncertain. Should he leave or stay? He didn't know, and he felt like he couldn't move if he wanted, despite his brain screaming at him to get out.

"You and Ben got in late last night," Tom remarked.

"Uh…yeah. Sorry."

"It's alright," Tom said, looking at Jimmy with a glint of amusement in his eye, "You boys had fun?"

"Ben did."

"You didn't?"

"I did."

Tom sipped his coffee and eyed Jimmy over the mug. Jimmy shifted under the scrutinizing gaze. Tom's eyes were almost identical to Ben's, from their soft color to their playful light, but they were different in a way.

"You'll be meeting Ben's friends today. Are you looking forward to it?" Tom asked.

"I guess."

"Do I make you nervous?" Tom wondered.

"Yes."

Tom burst out laughing, and Jimmy flinched.

"I didn't expect you to actually say so," Tom said between chuckles, "Are you always so honest?"

"No. But you already knew, so why would I lie?" Jimmy replied earnestly.

"That's a good point," Tom said. He leaned back against the desk and sipped from his mug, "I've been wondering something…a few things, actually, since Ben shared the story of how he and you met. Can I ask you about that?"

"I guess," Jimmy mumbled.

"When my son asked you to tutor him, you turned him down, but then when he started asking you questions, you answered them. So why, then, did you say no to tutoring him?" Tom asked.

"I don't know," Jimmy sighed, thought about it and carefully explained, "I understood math, that didn't mean I could teach it. And teaching someone…agreeing to teach someone…it's a big responsibility, you know? How was I going to tell someone I could make them understand something that's so hard for them, when it comes so easy to me? I guess I didn't want the responsibility."

Tom furrowed his brow, nodding. It was the most he'd heard the young man say all at once and he was silent a good long moment as he mulled the words over.

"So then…why did you reply when Ben asked you about those problems?" Tom asked.

Jimmy shrugged, "I was bored."

"And there was no agreement that you could teach him, so there was no responsibility on your part," Tom surmised.

"Right," Jimmy confirmed softly, shifting uncomfortably, hearing it phrased that way sort of made it sound wrong.

"If that was the case, then why did you confront that other boy when he misled my son?" Tom asked.

"Because that guy _was_ responsible," Jimmy snapped, fresh rage pouring into his bloodstream at the memory of that heart-wrenching email Ben had sent him, describing in excruciating detail his pain and sorrow, about how he'd been yelled at and lied to by a person that he had trusted, "That bastard agreed to teach Ben and then he went and broke that agreement and all for what? To attack me? Someone who had absolutely nothing to do with Ben? No. I won't let other people take bullets meant for me. Not ever. I went there to let that asshole know if he wanted to take me down, I was there and ready for him."

"I see," Tom commented.

Jimmy dropped his gaze again and flushed, realizing he might have gone a little overboard and worrying about what Tom might think of his outburst.

"I'm going to go check, see if Ben is awake," he mumbled.

"Okay," Tom conceded, taking a long drawl from his mug as Jimmy shuffled from the study.

Upstairs, Ben was still sleeping it seemed. Jimmy crawled under the blankets and curled up next to him.

"Your feet are cold," Ben complained. He rolled onto his back, stretching somewhat, and then turned on his side again, grabbed Jimmy into a tight embrace, squeezing the air from his lungs, muttering in a morning rasp, "Something's been bothering me, things Ryan said, from last night."

"You and your dad are a lot alike," Jimmy noted.

"I'm not going to ask what brought that observation on," Ben mumbled.

"What's bothering you?" Jimmy prompted.

"Why didn't you tell me when you went to Mexico?"

"Oh. That," Jimmy grimaced, and shifted so he could see Ben's face, not that it mattered, Ben's eyes were still shut, "I don't know."

"Not actually a reason," Ben noted, readjusting himself and Jimmy so that they were more comfortably entangled.

"I guess because…because there are some things about me that I'm not ready for you to know," Jimmy whispered.

Ben cracked an eye open to peek at Jimmy. He shut it again. He thought about asking why the statement was in present tense, but decided against it. Jimmy was an enigma and liked being that way, that's what drew Ben to him in the first place, and perhaps, to some degree, Ben liked him that way too.

"Okay. Also, what did you smoke in Mexico?" Ben asked.

Jimmy sat up abruptly.

"Oh, shit, look at the time. We should both probably take showers before lunch," he announced, climbing from the bed.

Ben struggled up to sitting, watching curiously as Jimmy dug through his bags for his various toiletries and then hurried from the room.

"Babe? What the hell did you smoke?"


	11. Chapter 11

XI.

Ben pulled the car into the parking lot of a little dive near Boston University. Jimmy peered out the windshield at the rickety building, weatherworn wooden frame and trimmed in shiny sheet metal. It had a painted wooden sign hanging over its door that was faded and chipping and its windows were misted, as though coated in grease. They had hung Christmas lights along the roof overhang and around the windows, but most of the strings had a dead bulb somewhere along them, they wouldn't light. There was a painting of a Santa Clause and his reindeer, but the reindeer all looked like road-kill and Santa looked reminisce of a heroin addict, with pallid skin and sunken eyes.

"Yeah, I'm not eating here," Jimmy declared.

Ben rolled his eyes, "The food here is actually really good. And you get a lot for cheap."

Jimmy stared at Ben blankly, blinked a couple times.

"I'm not even going to drink the water," he decided.

"Just get out of the car," Ben growled, muttering under his breath, "We can't all live in high-rise lofts and eat at fancy gourmet restaurants."

Side-by-side, they strolled up to the restaurant's entrance and Ben opened the door, ushering a disgruntled Jimmy inside. There were only a few patrons, mostly lone diners, sitting sparsely throughout the dining area. Ben scanned the restaurant, and then tugged out his cell phone. He had a new text message from Marty; she was running about ten minutes late. He shot off a text to Hatchet, 'we r here, where r u?', then motioned to an empty table and he and Jimmy sat down. The waitress brought them both glasses of water and menus. She had thick blonde curls, a long face, high cheek bones, and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Her name tag read "Maggie".

"Can I start you boys off with anything?" she asked.

Jimmy spun the glass of water around, and squinted at it, wrinkling his nose, "A clean glass of water maybe..."

"Shut up," Ben seethed, and then to the waitress stammered, "He's just kidding. It's fine, the water is fine. Can we get a basket of cheese fries to start, please? With jalapenos on top…"

"I don't like jalapenos."

"Make that on the side. Thank you."

"Sure thing," the waitress said coolly, ripping the top paper off her order pad and slamming it at the kitchen window, bellowing to the cook in back, "Order a chedda' chips with a side-kick."

"I thought you weren't going to eat anything," Ben said.

Jimmy shrugged, pointing out, "You got up late, we didn't eat breakfast."

Ben sighed, "Don't be difficult."

"I'm not being difficult," Jimmy returned, looking somewhat hurt at the inclination.

Ben frowned, leaning back in his chair and resting his leg against Jimmy's under the table. Jimmy folded his arms on the table and stared at his water.

"There are things floating in this glass," he noted.

Ben rolled his eyes, smirking despite.

"We don't eat at fancy gourmet restaurants," Jimmy murmured.

Ben wrinkled his brow.

"What?"

"You said it in the car. We don't, my friends and me, we don't eat at fancy gourmet restaurants," Jimmy reiterated, dropping his gaze and sheepishly amending, "At least, not often."

"I didn't mean anything by that," Ben said.

Jimmy shrugged, frowning at the table unconvinced.

"Listen," Ben straightened in his chair and leaned forward, dropping his voice low, "When my friends are here, will you…" he faltered, shook his head and sighed.

"Will I what?" Jimmy pressed.

"I don't know. Watch your mouth?"

Jimmy sat up, raised his brow and demanded, "What?"

"No. I mean…what I mean is…" Ben fumbled for the right words, he took a deep breath and clarified, "You call me a dork and I don't care. I know I'm a dork, and it's fine, and some days I feel like, I don't know, you make out with me so you can call me whatever you want."

"It bothers you that I call you a dork?"

"No. Yes. Sometimes. No, that's not important," Ben stammered, continuing, "What I'm trying to say is that…well…my friends are dorks too. And they know that, and they don't care, they're fine with that. It's fine to be a dork. You're not, though…a dork, that is."

"No," Jimmy agreed.

"And when you're not a dork, and you call a dork a dork, well…well, it hurts our feelings," Ben said.

"So it does bother you that I call you a dork."

"Stay on topic, babe," Ben said, "This is important. My friends, they won't like if you call them 'dork'. Same goes for nerd, geek, or any other pejorative term used to reference an individual that is of above average intelligence, wears clothes and is interested in hobbies, games, etcetera, considered in the mainstream to be 'lame', in general, either does not practice good hygiene habits or is overly hygienic, and is regarded as being otherwise 'socially inept', 'awkward', 'odd', 'bizarre', 'peculiar', or just plain 'freaky'. So, I'm asking you, I'm begging you, baby, please, refrain from calling them any of those things."

"You dork."

"Jimmy," Ben groaned.

"What? I'm getting it out of my system now."

The door to the dive jangled, opening and then swooshing shut and Ben perked, and then waved at the newcomer.

"That's Hatchet," Ben explained.

Jimmy glanced over his shoulder at the now approaching young man wearing a polka dot bow-tie with a black t-shirt that said in white lettering, "the cake is a lie", black horn-rimmed glasses perched neatly on a long, broad nose, and then spun back to Ben and hissed, "Oh this is gonna be _hard_."

Ben stood and, extending a hand to his friend, who clasped it and gave it a good shake. They grinned at one another, exchanging pleasantries. Jimmy hastened to his feet as well, nodding acknowledgment at the boy.

"Jimmy, this is my friend Edwin, he goes by Hatches. Hatchet this is Jimmy," Ben introduced.

"Pleasure to meet you," Hatchet piped cheerily, taking hold of Jimmy's hand between both of his own sweaty palms and giving it an enthusiastic shake.

"Pleasure's all mine," Jimmy returned, sardonic, fighting the disgusted expression wanting to swarm his face.

As soon as Hatchet released Jimmy, Jimmy quietly excused himself to the bathroom, holding his hand out away from his body. The restrooms, as it turned out, were a revolting mistake. He shielded his nose from the god-awful smell using his t-shirt collar, washed his hands and used a paper towel to reopen the door, racing back out. When he got back to the table, the fries Ben ordered had arrived, and both boys were already halfway through the basket, chatting excitedly about something or the other, all Jimmy understood of their conversation was computer and game.

"So…Ed…why do people call you Hatchet?" Jimmy asked, looking quizzically at Ben across the table furiously shaking his head back and forth in warning.

Hatchet suddenly got misty eyed. He sniffled loudly and croaked out, "It was the name of my…uh…my first and still my best toon from Diablo. He died, during a…uh…an orc mob. Some bastard noob trained the whole fucking mob on me and…well…may Hatchet 1.0 always rest in peace."

Jimmy raised a brow at Ben, darting concerned looks to their company. Ben sighed and shrugged.

"Jimmy, Ben hasn't really told me anything about you, I got to say, I'm really curious. I mean, he's got a bad track record with guys, but I'm sure you know all about that," Hatchet said, suddenly cheerful once more.

"No, actually, I don't," Jimmy murmured, darting a curious look at Ben. They had never discussed exes before, Jimmy hadn't ever been with another boy and, for some reason he had simply assumed Ben hadn't either.

As Hatchet spoke, Ben dropped his eyes, studying the fry in his hand that was topped with a particularly large glob of processed cheese-stuff. His expression was unreadable, but his demeanor was a little gray.

"Well, long story short, he dates some real grade-A assholes," Hatchet explained. Ben made a face and put the fry back in the basket, turning his face away to glance out the restaurant front window, "I'm not saying you're an asshole. I mean, you're not an asshole, are you?"

"Uh…I can be," Jimmy said.

"Right," Hatchet chuckled, "We can all be assholes, I guess. I mean, I can do some real asshole things when I play Minecraft…wait, have you ever played Minecraft?"

"I don't even know…" Jimmy started, shaking his head as he mumbled answer.

"It's an awesome game, you should play. It's addicting though, it's dangerous around finals, I swear, you will lose your entire day. I mean you're like in this world that's like a giant tub of Legos and there are zombies and you have to build…well, you just build is really all you do. You build stuff. Oh, and you got to mine for stuff, blocks and things like that. The mining part is important. Sort of. Not as important as the building."

"Sounds…uh…Legos…zombie…what?" Jimmy darted a look to Ben who was muffling a laugh behind his palm.

"Do you play any MMOs?" Hatchet questioned.

"Do I play any _what_?" Jimmy gaped. He sent Ben a look in silent plea for help.

"He doesn't," Ben spoke up, "He does play some first person shooters, racing games…uh…he loves Mario Bros."

"I do…like Mario Bros…yeah," Jimmy confirmed.

"And he likes Legend of Zelda, also," Ben added.

"Oh, I see. A Nintendo, fan," Hatchet said, giving Jimmy a once over, "I guess you do kind of look like a little girl."

Jimmy's face wiped blank, and Ben smacked a hand over his face.

"Hatchet, no…" Ben hissed.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" Jimmy seethed.

"Well, I'm just saying, my little sister and all of her friends love their Nintendos," Hatchet shrugged, obviously missing Ben's signals to drop it, "I thought only girls and white otaku wannabes played Nintendo."

Jimmy opened his mouth to be angry, but was suddenly confused as to how he was being insulted and instead demanded, "What the fuck is an ota…what?" He shook his head, and grumbled, "I played when I was a kid, I don't really play video games anymore. Maybe when I'm bored but…"

"Yeah. Right," Hatchet returned skeptically, then hastily added, "Real men play WOW…is all I'm saying."

"Leave him alone, Hatchet," Ben grumbled.

The front door jangled open, and Ben and Hatchet both turned to look at the newcomer. Jimmy just buried his face in a palm, he wasn't sure he could take another one.

* * *

.

.

.

A/N: Okie, two things: I haven't much gotten into the characters of Ben's friends in Fire Light. I didn't want to go too much into it now, so please don't let this story's version of them color your thoughts of them in Fire Light. Also, confession time, Jimmy's friends are based more on people I hung out with in school and...now. No, I wasn't a pothead, yes, all my friends were...now you don't believe I'm not a pothead, seriously, why does this always happen to me. I'm not a foul-mouthed pothead, I'm just foul-mouthed, and I smoked pot once...twice...a few times! Fuck you people. Anyhow, Ben's friends are based more on...my older sister and her group of friends. Hence, I feel I write Jimmy's friends better, because I have a better working knowledge of those types of personalities...I guess...

Oh well...

Have you reviewed yet?


	12. Chapter 12

XII.

The young woman that entered was short and stocky. She had her hair cropped low to the scalp, and was dressed in a knee high pencil skirt and a flowery blouse, short black heels, her face all done up with eye-shadow and blush. Ben and Hatchet both stood and Jimmy hastened to follow. Ben wore a broad grin, looking like a man who'd just won the lottery.

"Marty, what are you wearing?" Ben started, laughter creeping into his words.

Marty just rolled her eyes, "Oh, shut it, Spacin'. This isn't for you. I had an interview before I came. It's a good job and I need the money but I feel like a two dollar whore and this pantyhose is riding up."

"Spacin'?" Jimmy repeated.

Ben shot him a quick 'please don't ask' look, but when Jimmy had spoken, Marty noticed him. She turned to size Jimmy up, folding her arms over her chest and suddenly looked nothing like the dainty lady her clothes would suggest and every bit the butch woman that could kick his ass from there until Sunday. Jimmy swallowed hard and took a small step back.

"This is Jimmy, huh?" Marty questioned, stepping up to Jimmy and locking eyes with him. There was a hard glint to her, something steely and unabashed.

"Yeah," Ben tentatively confirmed.

"I'm Martine Deluise," Marty stated firmly. She jabbed her index finger into Jimmy's chest and then jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Ben as she said, "You break his heart, I break your legs. Capiche?"

"Uh…yes, sir…ma'am…sir? Got it," Jimmy stammered, ducking his head and nodding meekly.

"Ease up, Marty," Ben groaned.

"I'm just laying down the law," Marty replied, indignantly.

"You don't need to do that with him," Ben assured her, slipping over to take Jimmy's hand, and saying firmly, "Jimmy won't break my heart."

"And that'll be good when he doesn't, because I don't really want to break anyone's legs, at least not in these heels. But no one gets a free pass, Spacin'," Marty cheekily chirped response, "Now if you don't mind, I'm starving. Please tell me you already ordered a cow for lunch. My mom made me skip breakfast, because I get gassy when I'm nervous. And, boy, I was nervous for that interview."

"Did it go okay?" Hatchet asked, as they sat back down, Jimmy still clinging to Ben's hand under the table.

"I think so," Marty said, "There were three people interviewing me. The old guy liked me, I think the younger guy felt threatened by feminine power…I probably shouldn't have flirted so much with the woman interviewer, but she had legs up to her ears and these cute perky little tits just popping out of her low cut shirt, and her name was Cassandra. How do you not flirt with a Cassandra?"

"You hit on your interviewer?" Jimmy gaped.

"No, I flirted a little," Marty returned, "I was very subtle about it."

"So subtle, she had no idea it was happening?" Hatchet teased. Marty pulled a face at him.

"Look, I wanted the job. If I really wanted her, I could've gotten her," Marty grumbled.

"Which is why you haven't dated anyone since...October before last?" Ben pressed.

"Dating doesn't mean anything, boys, trust me," Marty replied smartly, "Just because I'm not seeing someone steadily, doesn't mean I'm not getting sex steadily. And I am, getting sex that is, probably way more often than you two losers."

"Don't be so sure of that, Marty, I get sex pretty often," Ben said offhandedly, and Jimmy flushed.

The waitress, Maggie, returned, with waters for Hatchet and Marty and asked, "Are you guys ready to order?"

Hatchet and Marty didn't so much as look at the menu before declaring their orders, then Ben ordered for himself and Jimmy. Maggie collected their menus and left to place their orders at the kitchen window.

"I would tap that," Marty commented, watching the waitress retreat.

Ben rolled his eyes and Hatchet voiced something that could've been agreement but it didn't actually make sense. The three friends slipped into a conversation that Jimmy couldn't really follow, he understood every other word, so he leaned back in his chair and zoned out, watching a fly walk across the wall. The waitress brought their food, and they ate as they spoke. Jimmy poked at his lunch, he tried a few bites. It tasted alright, like crunchy grease and pork fat. Ben hard ordered Jimmy a side salad, it came on a plate, there was something like shredded cheese, and some wilted pieces of lettuce, a slightly ripe cherry tomato, and raw red onions, all drenched in ranch. Jimmy ate some of it, and then pushed it aside. He tried to listen to the conversation.

"…when you're talking about a system of social control designed to program…"

"…oh yeah, sure, that's always the argument with you, but what about Machiavellian…"

"Don't talk Theory of Mind to me…"

Jimmy sighed and slumped against the table, and fixed his gaze on Ben. For several minutes, Ben debated heatedly with his friends before noticing Jimmy's staring. He faltered, the other two continuing to argue and for the most part ignoring the couple.

"You okay, babe?" Ben asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jimmy murmured.

"You barely ate anything," Ben noted, "Did you not like it? Do you want to order something else or…?"

"No, it's okay," Jimmy replied, wrinkling his nose at the food in front of him, his stomach flopped and a horrible feeling pushed at the back of his throat, "I'm going to go to the restroom, actually. I'll be right back."

Hatchet and Marty fell silent and watched as Jimmy stood and wandered to the bathroom.

"What's with him?" Hatchet asked.

"What do you mean?" Ben returned.

"Are we boring him or something? He hasn't said anything in the past hour," Hatchet persisted.

"No, no, that's just how he is, doesn't really talk a lot when he's just getting to know you," Ben said, then frowned, "Actually, he doesn't really talk a lot after he knows you either."

"Or maybe he doesn't like us," Marty suggested.

"That's possible. You did threaten him within ten seconds of meeting him," Ben pointed out.

"What about me? He was kind of rude to me before Marty even got here," Hatchet quietly noted.

"What? He was not," Ben protested, "You were rude to him."

"I was being nice," Hatchet argued, "Making conversation."

"You called him a girl," Ben cried.

"I was only joking around with him. He took it way too seriously…"

"And what exactly is so wrong with being a girl?" Marty demanded.

"Nothing," Ben muttered, then glared out at his friends, "So what…are you guys trying to tell me you don't like him or something?"

"No, that's not it," Hatchet stammered.

"Yes, actually, I don't like him," Marty stated candidly.

"I'm sure he's a nice guy," Hatchet said, "It just feels like he doesn't like us."

"Well, then, let's ask him when he gets back," Ben seethed, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair.

"Yeah, and he'll totally give an honest answer if we ask him outright," Marty muttered sarcastically

"He will, actually," Ben insisted.

"Ben, we don't have to make a big deal out of this. He's your boyfriend and we respect that, but I have to be honest with you, I don't think I really like the guy," Marty restated.

Ben frowned at her and then looked at Hatchet, "What about you?"

"It's hard to say. He hasn't really said anything. Though he doesn't like comics or play MMOs or any video games…I mean, those are all things you like…does he like any of the same things as you?" Hatchet mused.

"Yes. There are a lot of things that we both like and we do a lot of things together," Ben argued, "For your information, comics and video games aren't my entire life."

Hatchet gasped, "Why would you say something like that?"

"Ben, we're just trying to…to look out for you is all. We're your friends. I mean, you've dated some guys who've really hurt you in the past, and we don't want to see that happen again," Marty interjected, "Everything you've told us about him, the way you guys met and hooked up and…and…"

"He just seems really off-putting," Hatchet added, "You guys don't really seem…well…right for each other."

"And you don't seem to know anything about him, he hasn't told you anything about his family, and…what about his childhood, and…sheesh, you two moved in together really fast and…I don't know, he doesn't seem good enough," Marty continued.

They faltered at a small sound nearby, realizing the Jimmy had returned. They all shifted uncomfortably, wondering if they should apologize or try to explain, but he made no indication that he'd overheard, simply shuffling to his chair and sitting back down. He picked up his fork and poked at his food some more and the friends moved awkwardly back into their regular conversation.


	13. Chapter 13

XIII.

The drive back, Jimmy said nothing. Ben tried a few times to start up a conversation but the other boy remained stubbornly silent, so Ben turned on the radio instead and tuned it to Christmas music. The house was almost empty; Matt sat alone on the couch playing a video game. The boys put their coats away and Jimmy started upstairs.

"Where is everyone?" Ben called to his brother, warily watching Jimmy disappear up into their room out of the corner of his eye.

"Shopping," Matt replied, "Hey, Ben, you want to play? I've almost cleared this level…"

"Later," Ben said distantly, turning to climb up the stairs after Jimmy.

Jimmy had changed into lighter clothes. He lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his expression worried. Ben sighed, closing the door behind him. He started to remove his outer garments, bundling them up and dropping them off in the corner of the floor. Jimmy glanced at Ben, then pulled himself upright and silently moved to pick Ben's clothes off the floor. Ben smirked bemusedly at Jimmy a second, and then grabbed him by the shoulders to stop him. Ben took the clothes Jimmy had gathered out of his hands, tossed them back on the floor. Jimmy scowled, started for them again, but Ben held him firmly in place.

"Let go of me," Jimmy muttered.

"Leave them," Ben commanded.

"I don't want them there," Jimmy snapped.

"Yeah, but they're my clothes and I do want them there," Ben returned sharply, then narrowed his eyes and demanded, "What is with you?"

Jimmy glared at the bundle of garments. He shook his head, pulled from Ben and started back towards the bed, sighed, "Nothing."

"About my friends," Ben started.

"They don't like me," Jimmy remarked knowingly.

Ben frowned, he'd known Jimmy overheard, but part of him had hoped that Jimmy hadn't or maybe only caught the last few words, missing the context of the conversation entirely. He couldn't argue with Jimmy, if Jimmy knew from Marty and Hatchet's mouths themselves that the two didn't like him.

"They don't know what they're talking about," Ben replied.

"No, they do. I'm not…not…whatever. Look, my friends liked you, and your friends hated me," Jimmy said.

"Your friends were drunk. It's easier to win over drunk people," Ben argued.

"My friends are always drunk, and they usually hate everyone," Jimmy countered, "It's like at Berkeley, and everywhere else, everyone loves you and everyone wonders why you're with a horrible guy like me."

"That's not true," Ben scoffed, "Plenty of people like you at Berkeley. And there are a lot of people that don't like me, that really like you. My friends just don't…"

"Know me?" Jimmy supplied, "How much more do they need to know? You've told them about us, how we met and ended up together, and from that I guess they already had their opinion, meeting me was just a confirmation of what they already knew. We aren't right together."

"Jimmy…"

"And that's what everyone thinks, isn't it? That we aren't right together. That I'm not good enough for you. That you deserve someone better," Jimmy continued, then dropped his gaze and whispered, "And it's true."

Ben shook his head and took a deep, steadying breath.

"My friends are wrong," Ben repeated, he sighed, and whispered insistently, "I know they're wrong, and you know what? Because they dislike you, baby, I know that means you are more than good enough for me and that we are right together. You want to know why? Shit, in fact, I'm going to take it as a sign, how much they dislike you, that you are not just right for me, you are perfect for me. And that you're not just better than me but probably way more than I deserve. And you want to know why?"

Jimmy peeked curiously up at Ben from the corner of his eye, but remained silent.

"Those two liked my last three exes," Ben said, "No. They _loved_ my last three exes. Well…they weren't all exes, one was an ex, then there was a guy I dated for a couple months, and then some crush that almost was but nothing ever happened. Point is they liked those three guys from the moment they met them, hell, Marty kept trying to convince my ex when we were together to fly me to Canada and marry me. But everything just crashed and burned with those guys."

"They said your exes were all assholes," Jimmy quietly mentioned.

"Yeah," Ben laughed, "It's easy to say that now, in retrospect, after everything was said and done but at the time they weren't saying that. You know, when things ended with my ex, Hatchet asked me what I did wrong. He just assumed it was my fault, that I screwed things up."

"What did happen?" Jimmy wondered. He turned, taking a few steps towards Ben. His features had softened, concern still lined them but it wasn't that same melancholic worry that had been there when they left the dive, "I didn't even know this guy existed..."

Ben shrugged, put his arms around Jimmy as soon as Jimmy was close enough and sunk against him.

"That was a few years ago, a long time before I met you, before I told my parents about me. I was still a sophomore in high school," Ben mumbled, then he sighed and figured it was already out there, he might as well tell the story, "Me and him had been dating for a year or so, and things seemed good. Like I said, my friends liked him. His friends didn't know, so we didn't talk or anything at school or around them, but otherwise everything seemed good, I guess. He was my first, you know, and for a time I kind of thought or hoped that he'd be the first, the only, the last. Then one day his mom found a…uh…a porn mag in his room of all men."

Jimmy made a face, and grumbled, "Porn?"

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with porn," Ben said indignantly. Jimmy pulled back slightly to look up into his face incredulous.

"You like that kind of thing?" he demanded.

"I don't actively look for it," Ben rolled his eyes, and sheepishly admitted, "But I don't…not…like it."

"Ugh, Ben, that's disgusting," Jimmy complained, "You really like looking at naked strangers screwing around with each other for cash."

"Yeah, well, _anyways_, this guy, his dad is a hardcore conservative, manly man type of guy," Ben said sharply, pushing the conversation back on topic, "He didn't take it well that his son was looking at that kind of thing. Sort of like you, a total prude."

"I'm not a prude. I just don't like looking at naked strangers," Jimmy muttered, then straightening somewhat and pressing a kiss to Ben's lips, he murmured, "I like looking at a naked you."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I prefer looking at a naked you too," Ben returned, then went on with the story, "He was able to make up some excuse for why he had the magazine, but later we talked about it for a long time, and I thought we agreed that we would tell our parents everything," Ben continued, his eyes darkening with an old, pained emotion as he spoke, "So I told my parents that I was gay and that I was dating some boy that I really, really thought I was in love with and…and he…uh…he broke up with me and got himself a girlfriend that he could show off to his father."

For a moment, Ben was quiet, his eyes staring off at some shattered dream in the distance. Jimmy watched Ben, arms wrapped tight around his waist. Then Ben blinked it away and pressed his lips to Jimmy's hard and passionate, pulling away breathless. He rest their foreheads together.

"I'm sorry that happened," Jimmy told him earnestly.

"I guess it was good in the end," Ben lamented, "My parents finally knew, and…well, they were…they were really…my parents about it. I guess I'd heard so many horror stories that…that I'd been so scared of letting them know and I completely forgot who they were. They didn't really say anything when I told them, just that it was okay, they were glad I told them, they loved me and moved on….so I kind of worried that they were just saying it, that they were really disappointed or something. But after the break up, my mom found me crying in my room, and stayed up with me that whole night telling me that that boy didn't know what he was giving up and that I was going to find someone so much better. She made me brownies; they're as bad as her cookies, and we sat in my room flipping through my yearbook 'picking out my next boyfriend'. I told her it was stupid but it made me laugh, anyways. Then my dad took me and my brothers on a road trip that weekend to some Civil War monument in Virginia. He said when he had his heart broken the first time his father took him there, and that getting away and being reminded that there were so many much bigger things in the world helped him get over it."

"Your parents are really nice," Jimmy commented.

"And they were right, too," Ben replied, "In the end, I did find someone better."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Ben grinned, kissing Jimmy again, and whispering, "Hello, someone better."

"Hi," Jimmy murmured, smirking and returning the kiss.


	14. Chapter 14

XIV.

Jimmy decided that he would cook for the Masons that night. Ben told him that he didn't have to, but he insisted they go to the store that moment. Matt wanted to join them, stating stunned, "Someone other than mom is cooking tonight? Sweet."

So they piled into the car and Jimmy drove them to a market almost a mile from the house. Matt wanted to know why they had to go so far when there was a grocery store right down the street, but Ben assured him not to question it. Outside of the store, an officer of the Boston Police Department was collecting money for charity, and Ben dropped a few coins in his pail.

"God Bless, have a Merry Christmas," the officer thanked them, tipping his hat. He had a very dark complexion and a broad, toothy smile.

Inside, Ben pushed the cart around as Jimmy selected produce, and picked out meat at the butcher counter. He asked Matt questions like, "Is there oregano in the house?"

Matt's typical response was, "I don't know what that is. Is that food?"

In the end, Jimmy tossed a whole slew of herbs and spices in the cart, and an expensive bottle of fine wine.

"I get to drink some of that, right?" Matt questioned which earned him a slap upside the head from Ben.

They got back to the house before the rest of the family. Jimmy asked Matt for a few different items: cutlery, pots and pans. Then he commanded the brothers to leave and started cooking. Matt and Ben took up residency on the couch and started playing a video game.

"How's school going?" Ben asked, as he crept his avatar soldier along a rooftop in preparation for sniping the enemy.

"Okay," Matt replied, taking out a few of the enemy with a grenade, "I have Miss Kremlin for English."

"Really? She was one of my favorite teachers," Ben exclaimed, taking out his target on the fourth shot, then exchanging his long scope rifle for a shotgun and climbing down the roof to intercept a few enemy scouts.

"Yeah, I know," Matt muttered, rolling his eyes, "And you were her favorite student. I have to hear about it every day in class," then donning a mocking high-pitched tone, performed a snide imitation of the teacher, "Your brother Ben was such an amazing writer and so smart! What happened with you?"

"She does not say that," Ben retorted haughtily then cleared his throat and wondered, "She says I was an amazing writer?"

Matt paused the game and tentatively sniffed the air, "Is that smell coming from the kitchen?"

"Yeah, why?" Ben answered, furrowing his brow. He turned round and called, "You doing okay in there, babe?"

"It smells like…like food," Matt commented, sounding dazed.

There was a long silence and then Jimmy called back, "I'm fine."

"Almost like it might…maybe…possibly…taste good," Matt continued, he looked at his brother and asked in stun, "Is this food going to taste good?"

Ben smirked at him and laughed, "Un-pause the game, twerp."

It was almost half an hour later, and dinner was nearly finished, when the rest of the family returned home. Jimmy had joined the brothers in the family room, curling up on the reclining chair. He brought Ben a glass of wine and sat sipping one himself as he watched the game, saying that the meat was in the oven and that he would need to reduce the sauce in a moment, not that either brother understood what he meant, though they nodded all the same.

"My God, what is that smell," Tom called as he entered the room, followed not long after by Hal.

"Jimmy is cooking dinner tonight," Ben told them, pausing the game and taking a sip of his wine.

"Is it okay?" Jimmy asked quietly, fidgeting with his own glass of wine and eying the older Mason men uncertainly.

"Right now, are you really asking me if it's okay to cook for my family?" Tom returned humorously, and the others laughed at that, Jimmy sinking back in the chair and covering his fluster with a sip from his wine, "Of course it's okay, Jimmy. Thank you. We appreciate it."

"Please tell me it's going to taste as good as it smells," Hal commented.

"Hopefully," Jimmy said. He left to check on the food and in his absence the women joined them.

"Is there going to be enough?" Rebekah wondered and Jimmy furrowed his brow confused.

"Apparently we're having guests," Ben said and then asked, "Who's coming, anyhow?"

"The Dunbrooks," Tom answered.

"Leo's coming over. Awesome," Matt chirped, never taking his eyes off the screen as he laid down ground fire and his unit took out a tank.

"Yeah, we ran into Coach Dunny at the mall," Hal explained.

"Mr. Dunbrook was Hal's lacrosse coach in high school," Ben whispered to Jimmy.

"And it looks like their two oldest are in town for the holidays also," Rebekah noted, "So we invited them all over."

"Cole is coming?" Ben asked, his voice breaking almost imperceptibly. Jimmy glanced at him curiously, but his expression was unreadable.

"Yes, and Liza," Tom answered. If Ben's question was peculiar, or if Tom had heard the quiver in his son's tone, there was no indication. No one in the family gave anything away.

"There should be enough food," Jimmy told them.

"I wish we'd known you were going to cook, we'd of let you know," Rebekah started.

"I'm sorry," Jimmy murmured, "I just wanted to..."

"Oh no, hon, you're fine," Rebekah soothed, "You are such a sweetheart. Did you need any help with anything in the kitchen?"

"No," all of the Mason men cried and Rebekah flinched, then blinked away her startle.

"Okay…well…I suppose, I will go get some wine," she stammered, "Karen, dear, would you like something to drink?"

"I'd love some wine," Karen piped jokingly, sighing, "But I guess I'll settle for a glass of eggnog."

Rebekah disappeared into the kitchen to get their drinks.

"She can't drink?" Jimmy asked, nodding to Karen, "Is she pregnant again or…?"

"I hope she's not pregnant again," Hal cried, receiving a slap on the shoulder from his wife, "What? I want to sleep again eventually."

"I can drink, I just have to feed our son in an hour," Karen explained.

"She breastfeeds," Ben whispered, as Jimmy obviously wasn't getting it.

"Oh," Jimmy said, sipping his wine, and scrunching his brow. He still didn't understand, but he wasn't really interested in pushing on the 'breastfeeding' topic. Rebekah returned and the family room buzzed with conversation. About twenty minutes later, Jimmy went to the kitchen to remove the meat from the oven, and Ben followed.

"There's something you need to know," Ben said quietly.

Jimmy set the roasting pan on the counter and looked curiously at the other boy.

"The ex-boyfriend I told you about," Ben started.

"Yeah. What about him?"

"Cole is that ex," Ben concluded.

"Oh," Jimmy silently mouthed.

"I haven't seen him since he graduated two years ago and went away for college," Ben continued, "My family doesn't know."

"I see," Jimmy whispered, wrinkling his brow, "Should I…be worried?"

"No," Ben insisted, moving forward to kiss him, "Absolutely not. I just wanted you to know."

"You said his dad is crazy conservative," Jimmy recalled, "Is that going to be a problem?"

"Probably. Maybe. I don't know," Ben said, shrugging, "He knows, so there's no reason to hide anything. They were over for Thanksgiving one year and Matt let it slip to Leo. It shouldn't be too big a deal; my parents let him know pretty quickly that if he's got a problem with it then it's his problem. He basically ignores it, every time he sees me he 'forgets' and asks if I have a girlfriend yet, then I remind him and he usually makes some comment about it being a phase. You being here might cause a problem, though."

"Oh," Jimmy murmured, then smirked, "So…probably…don't make out with you at the dinner table?"

Ben grinned, pulling Jimmy into a snug embrace, "Personally, I am all for making out at the dinner table, especially in front of guests, especially in front of these guests, maybe a little PG-13 fondling, you know. But my parents have these rules against it…something about not being…polite?"

"That is weird," Jimmy jokingly remarked.

"Very weird."

As Ben leaned in for a kiss, the doorbell rang. He pulled back and made a face.

"Great. They're here. Baby, could you…?"

"I know, I know, be nice."

"Actually, I was going to say, could you be your usual cold, offensive self? Please? For me?"

"Oh...well…yeah, okay. Sure. Anything for you, babe."

* * *

.

.

.

A/N: Okay, I forgot to type this note here last night because it was three in the morning and I'd been writing since nine i the morning and really, desperately needed to go to bed but...the 'convenience' of Cole coming to dinner moments after Ben tells Jimmy the story was not supposed to originally go that way. Originally, I was going to have Cole come to dinner and then Ben told Jimmy the story of what happened, then I decided not to introduce Cole into this story, wrote last chapter with that in mind, and then I started this chapter and (I worked sometime between the beginning and end of writing this chapter) and Jimmy wanted to cook dinner this chapter...sort of to shake off his encounter with Ben's friends and prove to himself he's good enough...more on that when you see his family...these things are obvious to me, maybe not so much to others, and I was kind of like thinking, dude, wouldn't it _suck_ if you made this wonderful dinner for your boyfriend and his family but then his ex showed up and basically stole your thunder?

So then Cole did end up coming into it and I didn't feel like rewriting the other chapter, re-arranging shit because...sigh...this was really just supposed to be a quick fluff piece. God, I suck at fluff.


	15. Chapter 15

XV.

Mr. and Mrs. Dunbrook were several years older than Tom and Rebekah, but Mr. Dunbrook's snowy white hair and beer gut, and Mrs. Dunbrook's excessive tan made the gap appear larger. Liza, their eldest daughter, was nearing thirty and unmarried. She greeted Hal warmly and Karen a bit stiffly, as if by having all of those things she didn't, a husband and child, Karen was somehow responsible. Leo was a typically awkward fourteen year old, he had large eyes and ears that stuck out, and a pair of black rimmed glasses. He immediately joined Matt on the couch playing the video game, not even bothering to exchange pleasantries with the other Masons. He apparently saw them all regularly anyhow, being a good friend of Matt's. Ben squeezed into the family room from the kitchen, Jimmy stating that he needed to finish the sauce and some of the side dishes although Ben saw right through his thinly veiled excuse to hide from the new conglomeration of strangers, and caught Cole's eye.

Cole hadn't changed much, tall and ruggedly handsome, with a solid stature and light colored hair and soft blue eyes. He was growing out a beard and mustache. He smiled when he saw Ben, and Ben's heart cinched as he crossed the room and extended a hand.

"It's good to see you again," he said. Ben accepted the hand, gave it a firm shake, and hoped Cole didn't feel or misinterpret the trembling in his hand or the way he dropped his eyes.

"Benjamin," Mr. Dunbrook grunted, but said little else and Mrs. Dunbrook failed to acknowledge him at all, asking instead what Rebekah was making for dinner, commenting on how fantastic it smelled.

"Actually, I've been banished from the kitchen tonight," Rebekah said, explaining, "We apparently have quite the chef staying with us this week and he graciously decided to cook dinner. Speaking of which…Ben, hon, where is Jimmy? He should come out here, meet everyone."

"Uh…he uh…said something about…reduction…sauce. Does that make sense?" Ben stammered. He could sense Cole staring at him now, obviously reaching conclusion as to who exactly Jimmy was even as the dots were only just starting to connect in the rest of the Dunbrook family's heads.

"Can I ask, who is Jimmy exactly?" Mr. Dunbrook asked, clearing his throat gruffly.

"Jimmy is…Ben's boyfriend," Tom answered, the cool edge of his voice daring Mr. Dunbrook or anyone in the room to make sour remark about it, "They met at Berkeley."

The room was hush save for the sounds of war erupting from the television, as Leo and Matt were completely entranced by their gameplay and ignoring the conversation occurring over their heads.

Then Mr. Dunbrook tilted his chin down, muttered something under his breath, nodded and said, "I see. The food smells good, is he a Culinary Arts major or something?"

"Business, actually," Jimmy's voice piped from the entry to the kitchen, and a few people jumped, everyone turning to the young man in surprise. No one had noticed he'd slunk into the room. He moved to stand at Ben's shoulder and quietly announced, "The meat needs to rest for a few but, otherwise, dinner is done."

"Oh, well, then let's get some introductions done, then," Rebekah declared, "Everyone this is Jimmy, Jimmy that over there is Liza, there's Cole, Leo on the couch, and this is Ken and June Dunbrook."

"Hi," Jimmy said, giving a small wave of his hand.

They broke into groups from there. Mr. and Mrs. Dunbrook and their daughter Liza started up a conversation with Tom, Rebekah and Karen. Cole stood chatting and catching up with Hal and Ben. Ben only added small, stilted, usually one or two worded comments to the conversation, but Cole kept glancing at him despite his silence.

Jimmy was disregarded altogether, which was fine by him, he really didn't care to have a conversation with Cole. He certainly noticed that Cole was attractive, and it didn't escape him the light color that touched Ben's cheeks, or the way Ben seemed to squirm every time Cole looked his direction. It stung about as much as knowing that this young man, lithe, handsome, and well-articulated, had been with Ben intimately, what's more, he was the first to have been with Ben.

When everyone moved in to eat dinner, Jimmy couldn't help noticing how easily Cole commanded the room's attention. He regaled them with stories from his university, and everyone laughed uncontrollably and eagerly asked question, he knew what to ask everyone at the table to flatter or amuse them, and how to shift the focus throughout the room to include everyone – everyone he wanted to include anyhow, which wasn't Jimmy – and, at the same time, keep everyone's interested eyes on him.

Eventually, though, the spotlight did shift to Jimmy when Rebekah had finished clearing her plate and declared, "That was delicious, Jimmy."

Everyone voiced some kind of agreement and then Cole, no to be entirely robbed of his _de facto_ hosting duties, asked, "Where did you learn to cook?"

"My mom," Jimmy answered.

Ben perked at that admission. Jimmy had never mentioned anything positive about his parents, like learning a skill from one of them. Admittedly, maybe a little naively, Ben had always assumed Jimmy's talent for cooking was inherent, or at the very least, an interest that he developed through internet research and watching cooking shows.

"Your mom must be a really great cook," Matt noted.

Jimmy shrugged, watching his plate as he pushed some of his food around, and explaining, "She was classically trained in France."

"Wow," Mrs. Dunbrook exclaimed, and a few the others made sounds of surprise or impress, "Does she work as a chef…?"

"No," Jimmy said.

"You know, now that I think about it, you're taking Ben over there to meet your parents tomorrow and I don't know a thing about them. What do you your parents do, Jimmy?" Tom spoke up.

"Well…my dad is CEO of Hart&Cold Banking International and my mom doesn't really work, she does a lot of charity stuff for our church and some non-profits though," Jimmy explained.

Mr. Dunbrook whistled low and noted, "CEO banker, That's a good paying job."

Jimmy nodded.

"You told me your dad worked at a bank, not that he was a CEO," Ben whispered harshly, gaping in disbelief at Jimmy. He thought he felt nervous meeting Jimmy's parents before, but now it felt like he would be presenting himself to a king as the lowly son of a peasant teacher.

"His company must have taken a hit with the recession though," Tom said.

"Yeah, they did. My dad had to take a fifty-K salary reduction," Jimmy told them.

"That is…almost my entire salary," Rebekah cried, flabbergasted.

"Mine too," Mr. Dunbrook added.

"And more than I make," Mrs. Dunbrook lamented.

"I'm sure that really must have hurt your family, to lose so much from their annual income," Rebekah said.

Jimmy shrugged, "I guess," he forked a piece of meat and recalled, "My mom did stop going to the spa every month."

Everyone fell silent, staring blankly at Jimmy for a few seconds. His face blistered with heat and he sheepishly played with the food on his plate. He knew he shouldn't have given so much detail about his family's finances, he wasn't entirely sure what had possessed him, but now he wished he could undo it. He supposed because he would be taking Ben home the next night it wasn't as though Ben would be kept in the dark about his family for much longer anyhow.

"Right. I'm going to start clearing the table," Rebekah suddenly announced.

"I'll give you a hand, love," Tom said, helping her to start gathering plates.

"I can do the dishes," Jimmy offered quietly.

"Oh, no, hon, you have done more than enough tonight. I will take care of it in the morning," Rebekah cooed, gently swatting at Jimmy's shoulder in passing as her and Tom disappeared into the kitchen.

The guests filed out of the dinner area, Matt and Leo returning to their game, Hal and Karen disappeared upstairs to see to their son. Tom reappeared, and asked Ben to join him in the study, which left Jimmy alone in the family room sitting on the chair and watching Matt and Leo playing their game. Liza and Mrs. Dunbrook had slipped into the kitchen, presumably to help Rebekah with putting away leftovers, and Mr. Dunbrook seemed to be discussing something heatedly with Cole at the entry of the family room.

Eventually, Mr. Dunbrook ducked into the kitchen to join the women and Cole sauntered into the family room and approached Jimmy. Jimmy glanced up at him.

"Hey," Cole said stiffly.

"What do you want?" Jimmy asked.

Cole sighed, and rolled his eyes, "I'm a Finance major at Rutgers."

"Okay."

"I turned in an application for summer internship at the bank your dad works at."

"Okay."

Cole growled low in the back of his throat, darted a look over his shoulder at his brother glued to the television screen, then squatted down to be more eyelevel with Jimmy.

"Look, I'm guessing you know me and Ben have a history together," he whispered, so softly Jimmy barely heard him.

Jimmy furrowed his brow and turned his attention to the video game being played, murmured quietly, "Okay."

"I don't know what he's told you about it…" Cole continued.

"Everything."

Cole frowned and wiped a hand over his face, "Right. Well. Yeah. I'm guessing then that you don't like me very much."

"Actually, I like you quite a lot. If you hadn't screwed Ben over and tore his heart out, he'd probably be with you right now and I'd still be alone at Berkeley," Jimmy returned smartly, flickering a cold smirk at Cole, and drawling sarcastically, "Thank you for hurting him. Really. Seriously. Thanks."

"That was…I…" Cole stammered, his mouth opening and closing, making nonsensical monosyllabic noises. He shook his head, and grumbled, "My dad thought I should come over here, talk you up and make friends, ask if you might introduce me to your father."

"But you think it's a waste of time, and you're right," Jimmy interjected, setting a hard glare on the young man, his sharp blue eyes piercing right through Cole's soft ones, "My dad won't hire you. He only takes Business and Economics majors. And even if I would recommend you, which I wouldn't, it wouldn't count for anything. Was that it?"

"It was," Cole said, "But I didn't expect you to be so honest and upfront. I guess, out of respect I ought to be the same. I'm still in love with Ben."

Jimmy faltered, darting his eyes back to the television screen so that Cole couldn't see the emotion he knew passed over them.

"And I'm sure you saw, it's pretty obvious, he still has feelings for me."

Jimmy nibbled his inner cheek, curled his hands into fists in his lap. He had noticed Ben's behavior seemed odd around Cole, but Ben still having feelings for the other boy hadn't been obvious, not to Jimmy, but then again, nothing was obvious to Jimmy.


	16. Chapter 16

XVI.

The Mason boys usually got called into their father's study for one reason, and one alone, the dolling out of reprimands and punishment. Needless to say, Ben was a bit anxious when his father called him to the study. As far as he knew he hadn't done anything wrong. The dinner discussion had gotten awkward when Jimmy's net worth came up, but Ben couldn't see his father being interested or put off by the fact Jimmy's father made more annually than everyone that had been in that dining room put together.

Inside of the study, Tom went to stand by his desk, there was a stack of papers there and he placed his hand atop it. Ben tentatively slipped inside of the room and shut the door behind him, leaning heavily back against it.

"What's going on, dad?" Ben asked, "Did I…do something…wrong?"

"Your grades came in the mail," Tom said.

Ben's stomach dropped. He lowered his eyes, realizing that for the first time in his life, he wasn't entirely sure what his report card said. He'd been more than a little distracted that year, falling in love with Jimmy, moving in together. Now being called into the study made perfect sense, he'd gotten a poor grade, maybe all poor grades, and his father was concerned that his relationship with Jimmy was getting in the way of his schoolwork. Maybe Tom would ask him to pause the relationship, or end it altogether, recommend he move into the dorms. Every prospect that popped into Ben's mind was more awful than the next, and he waited on bated breath for his father to drop the other ball.

"I called you in here because I didn't want to make a big scene in front of all the other guests but, I wanted to say that I'm proud of you, son," Tom declared.

Ben jaw unhinged, "What? I mean…thanks. Why? Were my grades that good?"

"Your grades were good, yes, they slipped a little since last semester – I think you received more B's this semester than you have in your entire academic career put together – but it's understandable and B's are still very good. I expect you to pick that up next semester, though, don't let those grades keep falling," Tom said.

"Uh…yes, sir. All A's next year, I promise," Ben stammered, feeling a little disconcerted by his father's odd demeanor.

"That's not what this is about, though," Tom continued, and Ben furrowed his brow, nodding, "Your grades have always been good, and I've always been proud of you for that, but this year I've seen a change in you. I'm going to have to admit right now something I swore I wouldn't, but…well…your mother and I were a little worried about letting you go away for college. We didn't want to let you leave; I almost didn't send the tuition check. I know you've felt it; you've certainly called attention to it before, and though we've denied it, because we don't want to believe that our sons are ever unequal in our eyes, but your mother and I treated you differently than Hal growing up. We've sheltered you, felt like we've needed to protect you more."

Ben frowned at the ground, nodded somewhat. It was hard to listen to his father verify something that had weighed on him his entire life, that his parents had always thought he was weak in contrast to his brother.

"Whether right or wrong, we had our reasons. You might not believe that, but we did," Tom went on, moving to open the top drawer of his desk and remove a small red and gold wrapped package, "And now I see that going away was perhaps one of the best things for you. I see that you've grown, a lot. In the time away you've grown into a very capable young man. Or maybe you had become this capable young man sooner than I realized, but I just needed the time apart to see it. I'm not sure. You live on your own now, you're still pulling good grades, you're in a stable, strong relationship, and I'm not sure how much to thank that young man in there for it; but I do notice you're a more confident person when he's around, he's certainly affected you."

"He has," Ben whispered, smiling despite himself.

"I wanted to give this to you on Christmas," Tom continued, holding out the package for Ben to take, smirking and saying lightly, "But I thought it would be better if I did it in private, so your brothers didn't get jealous."

Ben stepped forward and took the package.

Tom watched as Ben carefully unwrapped the gift, telling him, "Now this is a bit of a break in tradition, I know, but you're a little untraditional and traditions need to be flexible anyways, if they're going to live on, I think…"

Inside the box was a delicately crafted pocket watch. Ben immediately recognized it as a family heirloom, traditionally passed down to the son on his wedding day, meant to signify the son's transition into full-fledged manhood. Tom had received it from Rebekah's father, and her father had been given it by his own father, and so on down the line.

"Dad," Ben gasped, at a loss for words. He always assumed the watch would go to Hal, as the eldest and the 'golden' son, and that it had already been handed over when he and Karen wed, along with their grandmother's wedding rings.

Tom smiled softly at Ben, stepping forward and clapping a hand to his shoulder, "I am very proud of you, son, and I love you very much."

"Thank you, dad," Ben whispered, allowing himself to be tugged forward into a strong embrace, which he returned heartily, "I love you too."

When they parted, Ben admired the watch a moment, and Tom watched him quietly.

"What do you think of him? I mean, really?" Ben asked, peeking up at his father.

"He's quiet," Tom said, and they both laughed at that.

"I know," Ben sighed, "That's really just…his way, you know."

"No, it's alright. There's nothing wrong with being quiet. In fact, a lot of people could do to learn quiet. He says what he needs to and nothing more, sometimes that's the best way to be," Tom replied, "He's…he's certainly interesting."

"Yeah, he is," Ben perked, smiling broadly, "I mean, I feel like I learn something new about him every day. And, dad, I know it's not obvious at first, sometimes, but he really is a good person and…"

Tom nodded, "I know."

"You do?" Ben asked, relief evident in his voice.

"Yeah. I had a conversation with him this morning," Tom started.

"You did?"

"Yes. I found him in the study, looking at your grandpa and great-grandpa's old war medals on the wall," Tom explained, "We talked a little. He has a unique perspective on the world, doesn't he?"

"You have no idea," Ben whispered, smiling, then winced and admitted, "He thinks you hate him."

Tom laughed, shaking his head and rubbing his neck, said, "Really? Maybe I was a little hard on him…"

"A little?" Ben scoffed.

"He spooks easy, though, doesn't he?"

"No. He doesn't, actually. Usually he doesn't care what anyone thinks. I've seen him look professors in the eye and say 'fuck off, asshole', excuse the language, but…that's him…that's how he can be," Ben exclaimed, and then realized, "I guess your opinion really matters to him."

"Well, you can tell him my opinion of him so far is very high," Tom said.

"He'll be glad to hear it," Ben remarked, sighing, "He was a little out of it earlier, I think that's why he wanted to cook tonight. He needs to be busy when something is bothering him. He overheard Marty and Hatchet casting their votes on him, both were thumbs down."

"Is that right?" Tom said, drawing his brow together and folding his arms over his chest, "Why is that?"

"I don't know," Ben muttered, "He didn't talk much and they took it to mean he didn't like them. It really bothered him because his friends liked me, I guess, I don't know."

"That's rough," Tom told him, "It's never easy when you don't gain the approval of the friends. You know, when I first met your mother's best friend, Deena, she hated me."

"She still hates you," Ben pointed out.

"Yes. Yes, she does. I can't win with that woman," Tom agreed, shaking his head.

"I told him it didn't matter what they thought," Ben said, "That it was actually a good thing they didn't like him, because they are terrible judges of character, but I know he wasn't convinced. Do you think maybe…I don't know…could you talk to him?"

"Sure, son, I don't know how much help I can be, I don't know him very well, but if you want me to, I can do that," Tom replied.

"Thanks, dad," Ben grinned, then asked, "Would you and mom mind if Jimmy and me turned in for the night before everyone left? I know he's probably had enough of meeting new people for today, and we've been busy."

"Of course not, son," Tom said, "And you have a big day tomorrow, meeting Jimmy's parents. You looking forward to it?"

"I was," Ben weakly answered, "Before I knew they were richer than God."

"He never mentioned to you before what his father did for a living?" Tom mused.

"I knew his family was well off…but, some people would say we're well off and...well…we are nowhere near as well off as them," Ben sighed, "His friends are all ridiculously rich too. The one whose place we went over to last night, Ryan, he lives in a million dollar apartment. It was a guilt gift from his parents. I'm starting to feel like I'm in over my head. I mean, what are these people going to honestly think of me?"

"Hopefully, if you just be yourself, they will think you are an upstanding young man with strong ethics and a good head on your shoulders," Tom supplied, opening the door and ushering his son out, "And if they don't see value in any of those qualities, if they are the kinds of people who only see value in money, then they don't understand the true worth of a person. Jimmy seems to have a pretty good grasp of a person's true worth, though, and apples don't fall far from trees, or so they say, so I wouldn't worry about it."


	17. Chapter 17

XVII.

The next morning, Tom and Rebekah declared that they needed the house to themselves, which Ben translated for Jimmy meant they had gifts they needed to wrap, so the boys went out to brunch at a little sidewalk café with Matt, Hal, and Karen – their son stayed at home with the grandparents. There was a special for an endless stack of pancakes, ten dollars a plate, and the brothers challenged one another to a pancake eating contest.

"Come on, Jimmy, you have to compete too," Hal said, smacking Jimmy's shoulder good-naturedly.

"No, that's okay," Jimmy told him, "I don't really like pancakes."

"What? Come on, that's no fun," Matt complained, "Play."

"Leave him alone, you guys," Ben chastised, then smirked coyly at Jimmy and teased, "He just knows he'll lose."

Jimmy rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Fine. I'll play."

They ordered four plates of endless pancakes and Karen watched laughing as the three brothers immediately dug into their stacks, shoveling forkfuls of the syrupy spongy pastries into their mouths, laughing and goading at one another, and Jimmy tentatively picked at his own pancakes.

"You have to…" Karen told Jimmy encouragingly, gesturing with her hand to start shoving it in.

"I can't do that," Jimmy shook his head at the other boys, making absolute fools of themselves, slapping pancakes from one another's mouths in effort to slow each other down. People at other tables were starting to stare.

"You're gonna lose," Hal jeered at Jimmy around a mouthful of pancake.

"This is disgusting," Jimmy complained, squeezing his eyes closed and digging into the stack, stuffing mouthful after mouthful of sweet, sticky buttermilk fluff down his throat.

The brothers were starting their third plates, and Jimmy was nearly done with his second when he hastily pushed it away, calmly stood from the table, and strode towards the bathroom, arm wrapped over his stomach and a balled fist covering his mouth. Eventually, one by one, the brothers began to slow down, and then finally pushed their plates away, doubled over, gripping their stomachs, and groaning in pain.

"You guys are idiots," Karen declared, laughing uproariously at their display.

"I'm going to check on Jimmy," Ben whimpered. The other boy had been gone almost ten minutes.

"Yeah right, you're going to throw up, wuss," Matt returned, moaning low in his throat.

"Let him know he lost, and I won," Hal declared woozily.

"You did not, I ate one more than you," Matt protested, then winced and covered his mouth with both hands.

"Oh shut up, both of you," Ben muttered, standing and wobbling towards the bathrooms.

"I won," Hal pouted, slumped over the table.

"Sure, you did, sugar lips. You're the king of face stuffing," Karen humored him sweetly, rubbing his back.

Ben found Jimmy standing over one of the sinks, water running from the faucet and swirling down the drain, a damp hand at his mouth, eyes locked with his reflection.

"You okay, baby?" Ben asked, gently placing a hand on the middle of Jimmy's back and peering concernedly at him.

"Yeah. I threw up," Jimmy said, wrinkling his nose.

"I kind of figured," Ben replied. He studied the other boy, who seemed to be quietly lost in troubled thoughts as he stared intently at his own reflection. Ben sighed, stepping closer and slipping his hand up under the hem of Jimmy's shirt to massage the bare skin on his lower back, "Are you sure you're okay? You were pretty out of it last night when we went to bed."

"I drank three glasses of wine," Jimmy pointed out.

"Which is sort of like drinking a glass of water for you," Ben returned, "You weren't drunk, I know that. So, what's going on?"

Jimmy shook his head, turned and smiled wryly at Ben.

"Why are you with me?" he asked.

"What do you mean? Right now? You've been in here for several minutes, I was starting to worry," Ben answered.

"No…I mean…" Jimmy stammered, shook his head, and dropped his eyes and grumbled, "Forget it."

Ben sighed, moving behind Jimmy and slipping his arms round the other boy's waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek and trailing down to his neck.

"You really impressed everyone last night with dinner, you know," Ben said, "I didn't thank you for it, though, it was really good."

Jimmy smiled vaguely, said nothing.

"I was thinking last night…about when you asked me out for the first time," Ben murmured, "Do you remember that?"

"Yeah," Jimmy whispered.

"I was just reflecting on how utterly confused I was when it happened, because it was the day after you'd told me to stay away from you, that you never wanted to see my face around campus again," Ben continued, he made a face and mumbled, "Which was also after you punched me for the second time."

"Right," Jimmy squirmed slightly, leaned back into Ben's embrace, "Why were you thinking about that?"

"I don't know. I guess because of what you said at dinner, about where you learned to cook," Ben said.

Jimmy tilted his chin down, his cheeks coloring noticeably.

"A year, I've tried to get information out of you about your family and your past," Ben went on, "And I couldn't pry a word out of you on the subject. I'm meeting your parents tonight and I know absolutely nothing about them. I feel like I'm about to go hunting without any clothes on."

"There's a picture," Jimmy grinned. He faltered and said, "I don't know what I'm supposed to tell you that'll prepare you better. My parents are kind of…well…all I can honestly say is now's your chance to back out. Take it while it's there."

"I'm not backing out. I want to meet your parents," Ben affirmed, and though his answer was unhesitant, there was a niggling of uncertainty at the back of his mind.

The door to the bathroom opened and a man walked inside. Ben immediately pulled away from Jimmy, but it was too late, and the man gave them an odd look then made an obvious shift in directions from the urinals to slip into one of the stalls.

"We should probably get back to the others," Ben decided, and then glanced back at the stalls himself; "I think I'm going to get rid of some of the pancakes in my gut first, though. There's no way my brothers will believe I didn't upchuck while I was in here, anyways."

"Are brothers always like this?" Jimmy wondered, "I mean, my friends can be like this sometimes but…you know, even we have limits. Hard to believe but true. We usually have drinking contests, not eating contests. Kev usually loses, we've had to take him to the emergency room twice for alcohol poisoning. Gary and Lenny are reining champs, but I mean, come on…Gary is a tub of lard and Lenny is Catholic, the drink in church for Christ's sake."

"You and your friends are a different breed," Ben noted.

Jimmy lowered his head, feeling a pang of pain at that off-handed comment, reminded that he didn't exactly fit in with Ben's friends. Ben caught the look and smiled, watching the interloper leave his stall and duck out of the bathroom, then stepping forward and placing a kiss on Jimmy's lips, arms around his waist again.

"I was thinking last night," Ben started.

"You were just overwhelmed with thoughts last night, how did you get any sleep?" Jimmy teased.

"I haven't been getting any sleep since we got here and you decided to hold out on me," Ben smirked, lamenting, "I mean, you won't even agree to a make-out session with a little heavy petting."

"Not my fault your room's walls are paper thin," Jimmy retorted, "You should've thought of _that_ when you decided not to book the hotel."

"Right, as I was saying, I just thought it would be an interesting experiment if we stuck your friends and my friends together and observed what happened. I'm thinking that their combined polar obnoxiousness would cause an atomic explosion and create a black hole and the universe would collapse in on itself."

"That's your hypothesis?" Jimmy laughed, "Well, I think, I don't want to be responsible for the world ending, so I plan on doing everything in my power to keep them all from meeting. Ever. Also, my friends totally trump your friends on the obnoxious level, it would be an imbalanced explosion, my friends would blow your friends away. So no black hole."

"You only think that because you just met the two of them. There are more, and I promise they all get increasingly obnoxious, until we peak at Lindsey, queen of bitchdom, and she is about half your friends put together, though I think maybe I agree, we shouldn't run the experiment, only because I don't want you to meet her. _Ever_," Ben said, leaving Jimmy to head for a stall, he paused in its entry and decided, "I don't want you in here when I'm vomiting, I don't want you to hear. It's weird. Go wait outside."

"You're such a prude," Jimmy muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Look who's talking, mister I don't want to look at naked strangers," Ben retorted, shooing Jimmy away with his hand.

"I've just now decided that I'm getting you porn for Christmas, since you seem to like it so much," Jimmy called over his shoulder.

"Go away," Ben groaned.

"And then I'm leaving you alone with your hand for a month," Jimmy finished and the door slammed behind him on Ben's mock-angry, "Get out!"


	18. Chapter 18

XVIII.

Jimmy waited outside of the bathroom door for Ben to finish, and they returned to the others together. Hal had already paid for the breakfast, which Jimmy felt mildly uncomfortable about it, especially after basically announcing the night before that his family was loaded, but Hal insisted that winner always paid in their family.

"Texted mom and dad to see if we could come home yet, but they said to keep ourselves busy for another two hours," Hal told the others, "They suggested Christmas shopping. There's a mall nearby we could check out."

"I'm done with all of my shopping," Karen told them, and Hal grinned at her.

"You're done with all of my shopping too, right, love?" he asked and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Yes, dear," she muttered.

"You did all of your shopping at Berkeley, right, babe?" Ben asked Jimmy.

He shrugged, "Yeah, but there are a few other things I want to get."

"I still need to do my shopping," Matt said.

"With what money?" Ben scoffed.

"Dad gave me money to shop with, and I mowed some lawns in the summer," Matt replied, indignant.

"You didn't blow all of that on video games?" Hal remarked, dubious.

"No, and don't worry about it, I'm not getting you losers anything for Christmas," Matt grumbled.

"Who you calling a loser, loser?" Ben growled as Hal complained, "The mouth on this kid," then the two older brothers moved in to pick on the younger, the three of them awkwardly wrestling one another while still attempting to walk.

Karen strode forward and looped arms with Jimmy, leading him towards the car, Hal had driven that morning, and advising, "Trust me, you don't want to be around the brothers when they're being…brothers."

She examined Jimmy a moment and he fidgeted uncomfortably under her pale, scrutinizing eyes.

"You don't have any brothers, do you?" she wondered.

"Um…no," Jimmy answered.

"No siblings at all," she persisted.

"Yeah…a…uh…sister," he said.

"Older or younger?"

"Younger."

"A lot younger?"

"Yeah…like five years."

"Ah…that explains it," Karen decided.

"Explains what?" Jimmy perked a brow.

"Nothing. You're just a very…gentle person. I'm guessing with your little sister you were yelled at to be careful a lot," Karen explained, she dug around in her purse a moment and produced a stick of gum, holding it out to Jimmy, telling him, "To get the 'throw up' taste out of your mouth."

"Thanks," Jimmy murmured, accepting the gum and unwrapping it, putting it in his mouth.

"No problem. I popped out a kid, and now I'm like insta-mommy. Always trying to take care of people for the grossest things," Karen joked, "I keep wanting to spit in tissue and clean Hal's face, I did it once, he didn't appreciate it."

"That's kind of weird. Thanks for sharing," Jimmy commented, making a face, "Um…how did you and him…meet? If you don't mind my asking…"

"Oh, no, I don't mind at all," Karen said, they reached the car and turned back, but the brothers were still horsing around, "I was a junior in high school when I met Hal, it was at a lacrosse game."

"Were you a cheerleader?" Jimmy wondered.

"Do I look like I was a cheerleader?" Karen demanded haughtily.

Jimmy weighed his options, she really did look like a cheerleader with her petite frame, wispy blonde hair, and perfect, white smile, but then again, the question obviously offended her so he shook his head and she smirked at him.

"Smart boy," she told him, "I was there for an art thing. They were doing an exhibit at the school that his game was at, gathering work submitted by students from all around Boston to put on display. It wasn't for that night; we were just setting up, and me and a few of the other student volunteers snuck off for a quick smoke near the quad. Some of the girls wanted to watch the lacrosse players, so I went and Hal was warming up on the sidelines, and the girls were all making a big deal about how cute he was and I thought they were being annoying, I wanted to embarrass them, so I yelled at him 'what's your number, hot stuff'."

Jimmy covered a smile. The brothers had joined them by then, Hal smacking the back of Matt's head one last time before slipping up next to Karen and putting his arm round her waist and Ben coming to stand at Jimmy's shoulder.

"He stopped stretching and came over, and the other girls were cowering and giggling and he and I talked for like five minutes until his coach yelled at him to get in the game and then he gave me his number," Karen said, "He was dating someone else at the time."

"We broke up," Hal interjected.

"Yeah, like two weeks later," Karen retorted, grinning as she pecked him on the cheek, "But we've been together ever since, so it must've been right."

"Yeah, it was right," Hal confirmed, kissing her sweetly on the lips, despite his brothers both making gagging noises behind their fists, and then saying, "Let's get going to the mall, huh? It's way too cold out here."

They loaded into the car and the mall was only a short drive away. Matt almost immediately took off, saying he would call when he was done, and though Karen protested, his brothers just shrugged it off and the two couples absently wandered stores together.

"Hey, so what finally got you two together?" Karen asked Ben and Jimmy, as they poked around a novelty items store, "You said after you first met, you didn't see each other again for three months."

"No, we didn't," Ben said, "I had started to think maybe Jimmy was just some fantasy I conjured up, that I just imagined the whole thing. Cute guy coming to my rescue out of nowhere, yeah right."

Jimmy flushed, and Hal rolled his eyes, examining a miniature gumball machine.

"And then just one night, I'm leaving the library for the dorms and out of nowhere, I saw him again," Ben continued, smirking distantly and saying, "He was in an argument with some guy. It almost looked like they were about to go to blows, and this guy was almost twice his size. So I thought I'd repay Jimmy sticking up for me against that math tutor by helping him out with this guy harassing him."

"Big mistake," Jimmy muttered.

"We both ended up at one of the nurse's stations on campus," Ben mumbled.

"Don't say it like that, it makes it sound like I had to be there," Jimmy chastised.

"Excuse me, ma'am," a grizzled looking older man in a green cap interrupted, clearing his throat and gently touching Karen on the shoulder to get her attention, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt you folks…it's just…I'm shopping for a Christmas present for my daughter and…I'm really no good at this kind of thing and…and I thought maybe you could give me your opinion."

"Oh, I suppose, yeah, sure, I don't know how much help I'll be," Karen agreed, smiling politely, as the man held up the two objects he was trying to decide between, one was a cheap jewelry box and the other a t-shirt.

"I'm really sorry about this," he told them sheepishly, ducking his head and confessing, "It's just…it's the first time in three years she's agreed to come out for the holidays…usually spends it with her mother and…I just wanted to get her something nice."

"How old is she?" Jimmy asked.

"She's fifteen, going on sixteen," the man answered, "My baby girl, Rachel."

"That's about how old my little sister is, I'd go with the box, girls are weird about their clothes at that age," Jimmy said.

"The box, huh?" the man mumbled, looking it over.

"He's right, last thing a girl wants at that age is her dad buying her clothes," Karen agreed.

The man gave an approving nod, "Alright. The box it is. Thank you, son, I appreciate that."

"No problem," Jimmy quietly returned, glancing at Ben smiling warmly at him.

When the man left, Hal demanded, "So, dork, what exactly did you do to land in the nurse's station?"

"He opened his big mouth," Jimmy answered, shrugging. He was beginning to feel more relaxed around everyone, more like himself.

"I had started going to the gym on campus regularly, so I figured I wasn't little and scrawny anymore, and maybe I might look a little intimidating," Ben sheepishly explained.

"Except no one looks intimidating in a sweater vest," Jimmy put in.

"You know, I wasn't gonna say anything, but I've noticed you've put on some muscle," Hal remarked, folding his arms across his chest and examining his brother, "So you've been working out, then, huh? Mom'll have a conniption if she finds out."

"It's fine…I'm an adult now, she can't tell me what to do," Ben rolled his eyes, then sighed and grumbled, "Needless to say, I got the crap beat out of me that night."

"That's not true," Jimmy interjected, "He got in one good hit, but the other guy hit him harder and he went down and that was it. That was the whole fight."

"But the guy busted my nose, and there was a lot of blood. Jimmy took me to the nurse; he used his sleeve to stop the bleeding and yelled at me the whole way. It was great," Ben grinned, recalling the lecture, "Something about minding my own business and not using my face to block a punch…"

"Yeah, Ben's never been very good at the ducking and dodging part of a fight," Hal noted.

"So what, Jimmy, do you just get in random fights all around school or something?" Karen mused.

"I have a problem with my mouth," Jimmy admitted with a shrug, "I can't always stop the things that come out of it."

"_You_ have a problem with saying too much?" Hal returned skeptically.

"Not _too_ much, just not the right things," Jimmy corrected, "Or maybe the right things, depends on who you ask."

"That guy was being an asshole," Ben interrupted heatedly, "He was harassing Jimmy for lending his girlfriend a pencil in class, acting as if the pencil was somehow code for a I want to fuck you or something…"

"Ben," Karen reprimanded.

"Since when do you talk like that?" Hal wondered.

Jimmy smirked, and plucked up a rhinestone coated goblet that spelled out 'PIMP', making a face at it.

"Anyways, Jimmy stayed with me the whole time I was at the nurse's station," Ben continued, "So we started talking, found out we were both from Boston. I told him it was fate…he didn't agree. I asked him why he stopped responding to my emails and he pretended he didn't even remember who I was…"

"I wasn't pretending," Jimmy protested, though even to Karen and Hal he didn't sound convincing.

"Afterwards, I asked him if he'd walk with me back to the dorms and he said…he said…um, wait…hey, baby, what was that adorable response you gave me again?" Ben mused.

"Uh…go to hell?"

"Yes. That's right. He told me to 'go to hell'," Ben said, grinning.

"I am really struggling to figure out how you two ended up together," Karen commented.

"Well, he may have said 'go to hell' but it turns out that's Jimmy for 'sure thing' because then he walked with me back to the dorms," Ben clarified, "I figured at first that he probably lived at the dorms too and just needed to head back there, but then I learned later that he didn't live on campus, so he really was walking me home. Afterwards, I deduced that he must have a class that ended shortly before I'd left the library that night, checked the class schedules to figure out which classes ended in the buildings around where he was fighting with that other boy and figured out that it had to either have been English Lit in Wheeler Hall or some computer class in South Hall. I waited around for a couple nights until I saw him leaving again on a later night, turned out it was the English class, and from then on, I just started meeting him after his class got out. I even brought him coffee a couple times, and dinner once."

"Slick," Hal commented, approvingly, holding a hand out for a high-five as he grinned, "That's my brother."

"You basically started stalking him," Karen droned reprovingly.

"Yes, he did," Jimmy grumbled, "I told him to stop. A lot."

"Shut up, you loved it," Ben argued.

"Don't hate, honey. That is how we Masons do it. Find something we want and fight, fight, fight for it. Never give up, never surrender," Hal declared.

"Oh, you mean, persist until they wave either a white flag or a restraining order?" Karen shot back.

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Ben pointed out, "Listen to you two, talking as if you both did not wave a white flag."

"Come on, Jimmy, let's leave these two unwavering fighters and go look at the glow in the dark trinkets in the back," Karen suggested.

"Okay," Jimmy agreed, the two turning to leave together.

"Hey…hey! Woman, come back here and admit that you both lost to the Mason brothers," Hal called after them.

"What? What do you mean 'okay'? Don't act like you didn't surrender, babe," Ben cried, "Babe? Baby…?"


	19. Chapter 19

XIX.

It took Ben longer than normal to dress for dinner that night, mostly because Jimmy made him change five times before telling him to put the original shirt on with the fourth option's pants, and the second jacket. Then Jimmy slipped a tie round Ben's neck and easily tied it into a perfect Windsor knot, but wasn't satisfied, so he untied it and re-knotted it three more times, and then decided he didn't like the tie at all, rolled it up and fetched another one.

"You should've brought the green shirt," Jimmy murmured, "You look better in the green shirt."

"I think you're more nervous about this than I am," Ben noted.

Jimmy just sighed heavily and re-knotted the new tie around Ben's neck a few times before declaring Ben finished. Then he told Ben to wait downstairs – don't sit down – and spent the next half hour dressing. When he finally descended the stairs, he looked effortlessly classy, every bit the rich heir, and Ben gave a low whistle.

"Very sexy, babe," Ben complimented and Jimmy flushed, pulling back when Ben leaned forward for a kiss.

"Did you eat something?" Jimmy demanded, plucking Ben's sleeve between his index finger and thumb and moving it around to examine it, then brushed some crumbs away.

"Yeah, I had a cookie," Ben answered, smirking, "My mom caved and bought some premade Tollhouse chocolate chip, you want one?"

"No," Jimmy muttered, annoyed, checking the watch on his wrist, "If we leave now, we'll have fifteen minutes to put gas in the car, then that will give us twenty minutes at the florist, and then…"

"Florist?" Ben repeated.

"Why are you still standing here? Move. We need to go," Jimmy snapped, motioning at the door.

"Okay…okay," Ben grumbled, shouting into the house, "We're leaving."

"Oh, but hon, I wanted to get pictures," Rebekah called from inside, bustling into the foyer, gushing, "Oh don't you two look handsome."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Mason, we don't have time," Jimmy murmured.

"Just one picture, it'll be real quick," Rebekah pleaded, "This is my baby's first time going over to _the_ parents. I'm excited. Please?"

"We can take a picture, mom. It's fine, Jimmy, we have plenty of time," Ben said, glancing at the other boy.

Jimmy gave a stiff nod of his head, his mouth pursed so tightly together the corners were turning white.

"Okay, but can we please hurry though?" he whispered.

One picture turned into four as Rebekah instructed the boys into various poses and then five when Ben pressed a kiss to an obviously anxious Jimmy's temple and she snapped the candid shot. Then they rushed from the house, Jimmy cursing the entire way to the car.

"Why are we stopping at a florist?" Ben wondered.

"Because my mom asked me to pick up her order before I came over," Jimmy grumbled, peeling the car out of the neighborhood, Ben gripping his door in surprise, "That was not quick, that took twenty fucking minutes."

"Calm down, jeez. My mom wanted to take pictures," Ben cried, "What the hell is the problem?"

"What the hell is the problem? What the hell is the problem? The fucking problem is that now we're behind schedule and we're going to be late," Jimmy snapped, "And the last fucking thing I need on top of everything else is to be late."

"Hey, I'm sorry, alright," Ben said, plaintively.

"Sorry doesn't get me back those twenty minutes," Jimmy grumbled, "Just stop talking to me, I'm trying to drive."

Ben shook his head, unsure of how to respond to his boyfriend's random behavior, so he simply settled back and glared out the window the rest of the drive. They stopped for gas, Ben waiting in the car as Jimmy stood outside in the cold, and then they went to the florist, Jimmy hurrying inside and returning with two bouquets of red and white poinsettias in twin crystal vases, and a garland wreath. It wasn't until they turned into a gated neighborhood of one towering palace after another, and pulled up into the long driveway of what appeared to be the largest palace of the community and Ben blinked away his stun that he spoke again.

"Whoa. This is your parents' house?"

Jimmy let his breath out, as though he'd been holding it the entire drive, and whispered, "Yes."

"Five of my parents' houses could fit in this…"

"It's not that big."

"It's a fucking mansion, Jimmy."

"Okay, could you not make such a big deal about this?"

Ben shook his head and started to open his door to get out, but paused when he noticed Jimmy wasn't moving, still gripping the steering wheel tightly in his hands.

"Before we go in, there are some things I need to tell you," Jimmy mumbled. Ben took his hand off the door and relaxed back into his seat.

"Yeah. What's up?"

"You're my roommate," Jimmy said shakily, "Anyone asks, that's all you are."

Ben gaped at Jimmy for several minutes, unable to slow the pounding of his heart. He slumped back in his chair and glared furiously up at the house.

"You haven't told your parents," he bitterly surmised.

"You said you wanted to meet my family," Jimmy whispered, "You didn't say how you wanted to meet them."

"I should've known," Ben murmured, demanding, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't know how. You just assumed and I didn't know how to tell you…" Jimmy replied quietly, grumbling, "You always just assume things."

"And I'm guessing this 'roommate only' business is because you don't plan on telling them," Ben bit out, shaking his head and growling, "Unbelievable."

"You don't understand, my parents aren't like yours," Jimmy said. He scowled, deciding that Ben was obviously not comprehending, tossed his door open, and spat out over his shoulder before climbing from the car and slamming the door shut, "You'll see."

The gravel that lined the driveway crunched under Jimmy's feet as he stalked up to the porch, hands in his jacket pockets and eyes, hot with anger and frustration and fear, trailing the ground. He rang the doorbell, a sense of calm and guilt washing through him when he felt Ben come to stand at his shoulder. It wasn't Ben's fault he had no idea he was walking into a lions' den. An unfamiliar woman in a dress suit opened the door, and while Ben moved as though to introduce himself, Jimmy breezed right by her.

"She's no one," he called over his shoulder coldly.

"I'm sorry," Ben quietly told the woman, and then kindly thanked her for opening the door. Then he caught sight of the room and fell silent.

Jimmy peeked a glance back at Ben, feeling oddly sick at the gaping expression on the other boy's face, as Ben admired the high-vault ceilings, the marble floors, painted glass windows, the spiral staircase. At the top of the staircase stood a spritely young girl, brown curls falling angelically around her pale white face and bright blue eyes.

* * *

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A/N: Oi, forgot to mention, for those of you that read First Patrol and are like...well his family is so much richer than I imagined, it's because his dad has gotten a couple promotions and several raises, and the family has moved into new accommodations since the events of First Patrol are supposed to have taken place. I intended to mention that somewhere in this story...but it never in...I know, I know...this is what happens when I speed write. Sorry!

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	20. Chapter 20

XX.

"Jimmy, you're here," squealed the girl, racing down the stairs and, to Ben's stun, tossing herself into Jimmy's arms.

Jimmy smiled, returning the hug briefly, murmuring soft greeting, "Hey, Cass," then he pulled her back and looked her over. She was in her early teens, maybe fourteen or fifteen, had a cute curvy frame and wore a red dress that complemented it, the tiered skirt cut short at her knees, and the straps an opaque white lace.

Jimmy furrowed his brow severely.

"What are you wearing and where is the rest of it?" he demanded.

"Quiet, you're worse than dad," Cass teased, tossing a curiously look at Ben. Ben recovered from his initial stun quickly, realizing the lithe young lady had to be Jimmy's younger sister. He stepped forward to introduce himself, hand extended.

"Hello, I'm Ben Mason, Jimmy's roommate at college," he started.

Cass gave the hand an indignant look, slowly raised her eyes to Jimmy, and perked a brow.

"Roommate?" she drawled sarcastically, "That's the story you're going with? They're never going to buy that."

"He is my roommate," Jimmy returned, "Technically."

"You always were a terrible liar, Jimmy," Cass clucked reprovingly, then turned to Ben and dramatically declared, "We have to add more flair to the story. You're an orphan. But not just any orphan. You're twice orphaned. Your parents died in a fire when you were a child, and the parents that adopted you died recently in a car accident, but some suspect it wasn't an accident, because the electrical system of their vehicle looks vaguely like it may have been tampered with, causing the car to accelerate uncontrollably! Oh, but the plot thickens when it turns out your biological parents left you a fortune, that your adoptive parents never told you about, only to be..."

"Cass, we're not telling people that," Jimmy groaned, he'd been shaking his head in increasing agitation at her every word and apparently reached his limit.

"But I like the story," Ben grinned, then looking at Jimmy with a light expression, feeling slightly forgiving for the car confession, as he noted somewhat giddily, "You told your sister about us."

"Told me? Oh, you are so adorable," Cass giggled, playfully swatting Ben's shoulder, "My brother doesn't tell me anything. I'm the one that had to tell him he was gay."

"Cass," Jimmy cried, burying his face in his hand, "Will you stop telling people that?"

"What? It's true. He kept complaining about 'that guy' when we talked on the phone – yes, Ben, sweetheart, before you ask, you _were_ 'that guy', and he said maybe he should just kick your ass, but I suggested he ask you on a date instead," Cass rattled off explanation, "And obviously, you're here, so we all know how that turned out."

"That's not exactly what happened," Jimmy protested.

"Actually, he did both…" Ben ironically noted.

"That _is_ exactly what happened," Cass retorted, "My brother, the oblivious boy wonder, capable of missing the most apparent of details, even the ones about himself."

"I guess I owe you my eternal gratitude," Ben told her.

"I'll settle for a dry martini," Cass cheekily replied.

"Cass," Jimmy groaned.

"Oblivious boy wonder," Ben repeated distantly, then grinned, "I like that, I'm going to use that.

"I'm glad. You can have it," Cass chirped, "Embroider it on a pillow. Give it to him for Christmas."

"I would, if only I knew how to embroider."

"Oh, well in that case, I'll embroider it for you!"

"Uh…I don't think so. _This_…this thing you guys are doing right now, is not happening," Jimmy growled warningly, "You two are not allowed to team up against me."

Ben and Cass both gave Jimmy twin innocent looks, and then returned hastily to their conversation.

"So, how long did you know that your brother was…?" Ben started.

"Oh, I only realized when he started talking about you," Cass answered readily, "He dated some girls before, but only because they asked him out and then they usually ended up breaking up with him because he wasn't interested. He never talked about anyone like you. I honestly thought he would never fall in love, maybe he wasn't capable or something, and that was going to end up being one of those grumpy old men that sits at the park alone all day playing chess or chasing birds or something."

"Stop talking, now, Cass," Jimmy growled warning, even as Ben burst out laughing.

"I can actually see that," Ben conceded, looking Jimmy over as though he were envisioning him a grumpy old man. Jimmy made a face at him.

"You want to know how I knew he was in love with you?" Cass exclaimed.

"Sure."

"Shut up, Cass!"

"We're on the phone and He was complaining about you and he says, I swear to God this is exactly what happened, he says, 'this guy is more annoying than you, Cass', and it just occurred to me there, and I was like, 'oh my God, Jimmy, you're in love'! Of course, he spent three more months doing nothing about it until I finally told him to ask you out."

"I like your sister," Ben laughed and Cass grinned triumphantly at Jimmy.

"One person in the world, Cass," Jimmy muttered, and then asked, "Is dad here? His car wasn't out front."

"No," Cass answered pertly, fluttering her eyelashes and explaining in a mock-cheery tone, "There was a problem with the Wilson account that father simply had to attend to before he could retire for the holiday," she sighed and returning to a normal tone, muttered, "Of course, mom has been drinking her Holiday favorite all day."

"Eggnog without the eggnog," Jimmy acknowledged.

"Eggnog without the…what is that…?" Ben wondered, looking between the siblings, who exchanged wicked smiles.

"You haven't properly broken him in yet, I see," Cass said to her brother, which Ben admittedly found more than a little perturbing.

"Mom's in the kitchen, I take it?" Jimmy asked, removing his coat and motioning for Ben's. He hung their coats in a nearby closet on their left and led the way into the house.

Ben couldn't help noticing how brightly polished everything was, the way it all shimmered and shined. Every room they passed that he could see into looked as though it were cut directly from a high-end furniture magazine.

"So…I take it your family has maids?" Ben mused quietly. Cass simply giggled uproariously at that notion.

"Mom would never trust anyone else to clean the house," Jimmy responded dully.

Ben nodded, trying to be nonchalant, but he kept thinking that it was such a huge house and there was absolutely no speck of dust or clutter or anything that would suggest that people lived in the house in any way, shape or form. Bleak, was the best way he could think to describe the place and later he would remark on the coldness of it all. How could any one person keep it clean by herself? Then they entered the dining hall and Ben stopped dead in his tracks. There was a long banquet table across one side of the room, delicious appetizers and a mouthwatering dessert spread already lined its top.

"How many people are going to be here tonight?" Ben wondered. Jimmy had mentioned that his parents hosted a party on Christmas Eve, he said nothing about a party that night.

"Well, there's us, so that's five and then…the Gervaises are coming," Cass counted off on her fingers, then held up both hands, "Ten."

"Ugh, the Gervaises?" Jimmy complained, "Really?"

"Yes, are you prepared for a whole night of 'did you hear that Melanie just finished her first year of pre-med at Harvard, Melanie is going to pre-med at Harvard, Melanie is doing so well at pre-med at Harvard', and 'Susie is going to be valedictorian, she only just started freshman year, but we already can tell, she's going to be valedictorian, she's so smart, and all A's, valedictorian for certain' and, of course, one mustn't forget, Marco," Cass rambled off.

"Um…what about Marco?" Ben prompted.

"Nothing. He's not remarkable. That's the point," Cass answered, with a wry smile.

Ben grimaced, "Oh. Poor Marco."

Jimmy barely listened to his sister, walking along the table, inspecting the dishes. He furrowed his brow.

"Mom only made three kinds of pie?" he asked.

"No. She pulled a lemon meringue out this morning, it's cooling on the rack in the kitchen, and then there's a chocolate la crème in the fridge," Cass returned.

"Five pies. For ten people," Ben gasped, looking amazed at Jimmy and demanding, "Why are there five pies?"

Jimmy said nothing, heading through another door and Ben started to follow after, but Cass halted him with a touch to his arm.

"Compliment her on the fluffiness of the meringue," she whispered.

"The…what?" Ben gaped.

"Trust me," Cass said with a wink, and then disappeared through the door as well.

Ben glanced around the spacious room with the wall of food and the giant dining table and had that feeling of being in way over his head again. He took a deep breath and went through the door as well. The siblings were waiting on the other side and he followed them down a corridor – Ben wasn't sure he could get back to the front door if he wanted to at that point – and into a gigantic kitchen that look as though designed for a gourmet restaurant with industrial sized appliances.

Different platters of various food either still being assembled into a proper display or waiting to be taken to the dining room lined the counters. There was the meringue cooling on a tiered rack, beneath it a tray of tarts, and beneath that a cake coated in a flawlessly smooth white substance. In the midst of it all was a slender woman with her brown locks twisted atop her head, wearing the same grim expression Ben recognized from Jimmy's features. She was busily working, carefully putting together a plate of what looked to be an arugula salad, with perfectly sliced pears and slivers of white cheese. She barely glanced up when the three entered, placing a pitcher of what Ben assumed to be dressing on the tray with the salad bowel. She set it atop a rolling cart and turned to begin working on what looked to be steak wellington.

"James, you're late," she greeted tersely, "I told you four."

"Sorry, mom," Jimmy mumbled, moving into the kitchen to quickly brush a kiss to his mother's cheek.

"That was my fault," Ben spoke up, Jimmy darting an unreadable look to him, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Boland, I took my time getting ready. I'm Ben…Ben Mason, Jimmy's…roommate, from college."

"I see. It's good to meet you," Mrs. Boland murmured, disregarding Ben entirely and telling Jimmy, "That pan on the back burner, James, will you deglaze it for me please. I still have to get the duck from the oven, roast the baby potatoes, fire the salmon, puree the squash, and do the piping on the cake…what are you doing, James?"

Jimmy had grabbed one of the bottles of wine from a wrack beneath the counter, he faltered.

"Deglazing the pan…" he answered carefully.

"Not with that," his mother seethed, "Use the Sherry…the _Sherry_."

"Sorry," Jimmy muttered, putting the bottle back and pulling out another one.

"I told you that I needed you here on time tonight, I don't know why I expected that you not disappoint for once in your life…it doesn't matter now, I suppose," Mrs. Boland continued muttering under her breath.

Ben's brow jumped at that as he darted looks to Jimmy and over at Cass, uncertain if he'd just heard correctly. Neither sibling behaved as though anything out of the ordinary had just come from their mother's mouth. Jimmy had only just walked through the door after being away for months at college; she hadn't so much as hugged him yet but was suddenly calling him a disappointment. Ben felt as though he'd stepped into a surreal painting, clocks melting across an oblique landscape.

"The photographer arrived five minutes ago, you should have been ready by now…I want you to take pictures alone and with Cassidy in the den and the library, and then outside, there's an ice sculpture," Mrs. Boland continued, as Ben mouthed in surprise 'ice sculpture', "Then we'll take more after dinner when your father is home. You missed the Christmas card pictures, so I suppose I'll send these pictures out for the new year. Honestly, James, I don't know why you couldn't arrange to fly in three weeks ago."

"We were still taking finals three weeks ago," Ben commented, incredulous, part of him thinking the raving woman had to be joking.

Mrs. Boland paused in her rant to consider Ben a moment, her features dark and chaotic. Jimmy turned from the stove, his wide-eyes locking on the other boy. Cass ducked her head down, mouse brown curls cascading across her face. Mrs. Boland took a deep breath, and then coolly dismissed Ben with a tip of her chin.

"I laid a suit out for you upstairs on your bed," she said, "I need you to go change now, please."

"What's wrong with the clothes he's got on?" Ben wondered but Mrs. Boland ignored the question.

Jimmy moved past, telling Ben, "I'll be back," then disappeared into the hall.

Mrs. Boland busily worked on her food and Cass gently prodded Ben then motioned at the cooling rack.

"Oh…uh…Mrs. Boland, the meringue on your pie looks good. Very…fluffy?" Ben stammered comment.

Mrs. Boland paused, looking up at Ben as though completely robbed of air, "Really? Why, thank you. What was your name again?"

"Ben, ma'am."

"Ben, you seem like a nice young man. Cassidy, sweetheart, will you get Ben a glass of cider," Mrs. Boland said.

"Oh, no, I really am not…" Ben started.

"Nonsense," Mrs. Boland interrupted sharply, "Cassidy, cider, please. There are cinnamon sticks in the cabinet."

Cass sighed and trudged across the kitchen, retrieving a mug from one of the cabinets and a bag of cinnamon sticks, taking one out and putting it in the mug, then she filled the glass with steaming liquid from one of the multiple pots and pans on the stovetop.

"My husband has a friend who owns an apple orchard out on Martha's Vineyard, ships us fresh batches of apples and bottles of cider every autumn and winter," Mrs. Boland explained, she halted Cass and shaved off a piece of apple into the mug, before pulling a whole salmon from the fridge and beginning to prep it for grilling. Cass returned to Ben and handed the mug over.

"Thank you," he told her softly, then a little louder, "Thank you, Mrs. Boland."

Ben took a sip of the cider, it was like an apple cinnamon explosion in his mouth, as Jimmy's every little quirk suddenly started to fall into place.

* * *

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A/N: I never got into how psychotic Jimmy's mother could truly be in First Patrol...you'll find out more about her...oddities in Fire Light somewhere farther down the line in that story. Many, many, many chapters in the future.


	21. Chapter 21

XXI.

The suit Mrs. Boland had left out for Jimmy was nice and seasonal, a red shirt with a red, green, and gold tie. Ben honestly preferred the clothes Jimmy had picked out for himself, though Ben couldn't be certain if that was because Mrs. Boland had disregarded the outfit so cruelly or if he actually liked the original clothes better. Jimmy and Cass took pictures with the photographer for well over an hour and for most of that time Ben watched, or wandered nearby, afraid that if he moved too far away he'd get lost in the labyrinthine house and never find his way back again. They'd have to send out search parties and he'd die of starvation.

Then the Gervaises arrived, and as Cass predicted: Melanie, eldest, was Harvard pre-med, Susie, youngest, was certainly going to be valedictorian, and Marco, middle, was dressed in all black, wearing thick eyeliner and staring longingly at the knives on the table as though considering gouging everyone's throats out. Overall, they seemed a pleasant family.

Everyone mingled in the dining room, nibbling appetizers and admiring the desserts, and eagerly awaiting dinner as its smell wafted throughout the house. The woman who had opened the door and a couple others that Ben hadn't seen prior to that moment, swept in and took over kitchen duties and serving as Mrs. Boland went out to play hostess.

"Charlotte, you've outdone yourself," Mrs. Gervaise commented.

"It was nothing," Mrs. Boland replied easily, and Ben covered a scoff, he'd witnessed exactly how 'easy' the food around him had been to prepare.

And then Mr. Boland arrived home.

When Ben had first seen Jimmy, over a year ago, marching into the campus library and busting into an argument with the pompous math tutor Lloyd or Floyd or whatever his name was, the thing that had most drawn Ben's attention was the calm rage that stirred dark and alluring inside of the other boy. It was that same calm rage that Ben readily identified in the stocky older man that strode proudly into the room and enthusiastically greeted everyone with a firm handshake. Mr. Boland spotted his son beside Ben in the far corner of the room and approached, features trained into a stern expression, he extended a hand.

"James," he said.

Jimmy shook the hand and said nothing.

"Oh, sir, I'm Ben…Ben Mason, Jimmy's roommate from college," Ben greeted, extending his hand. Mr. Boland considered it, then gave it a firm shake, his grip crushing.

"So you go to Berkeley, too. What's your major, Ben?" Mr. Boland asked.

"Uh…History, and I'm minoring in English," Ben answered easily.

"History," Mr. Boland laughed, "And what're you going to do with a History degree?"

"I'm hoping maybe a professor," Ben replied, earnestly, "Or maybe work at a museum…"

"Ah, nothing that pays in the long run," Mr. Boland noted.

"Professors can make pretty good money," Jimmy quietly remarked.

"I guess pretty good is good enough for some people," Mr. Boland returned, clapping his son's shoulder non-too-gently, "We Bolands aren't 'some people', though, we aim for excellence."

And without another word Jimmy's father turned and left and returned to chatting up the guests. Eventually, after sitting in the back of the room with the Boland and Gervaise siblings, watching the parents all schmooze with one another, a few whispers exchanged amongst the group, then Jimmy gently smacked Ben's shoulder, gestured the exit with a flick of his head and they all filed out. Ben followed the lavish looking young adults and teenagers through the winding corridors and finally into a large office room. Jimmy and Cass disappeared for a moment, leaving Ben alone with the three Gervaises a moment.

"So, what do your parents do?" Melanie asked, giving Ben a once over.

"Uh…my dad is a professor at Boston U," he started.

"What she means is how much are your parents' worth," Marco interjected, pulling a lighter and thin black cigarette from his pocket. He moved towards the office window, cracking it and chilly air gushed in. He lit the cigarette, it didn't smell normal.

"Oh," Ben mumbled, seething, "I don't think that's your business."

"I'm not trying to offend, tall, dark, and super-sensitive," Melanie laughed, "I was just curious. You're not the usual type of friend that James's mom would allow over. You look bad blood is all."

Ben opened his mouth to demand what she meant by that, but Jimmy and Cass returned then with two bottles of whiskey. Jimmy popped the cap off the first bottle, took a long draught, and then passed it off to Susie. Then he opened the second one, took another long draught of that, and handed it over to an eager Cass. Then he wandered over to Ben, gesturing for him to follow out into the hallway, as the girls started talking about love interests and Marco commandeered a bottle and nursed it by the window.

Jimmy meandered through the corridor, hands in his pockets and eyes downcast. He'd loosened his tie and undone the top buttons of his shirt.

"So…" he started wistfully, glancing anxiously at Ben, "You want to break up with me, yet?"

Ben almost stumbled over in surprise at the question.

"No," he gasped, then lowered his eyes and sheepishly admitted, "Right now, I think I want to run away with you somewhere far from here. Never look back."

Jimmy smirked sardonic at the ground.

"Jimmy…baby, I'm so sorry," Ben began, faltered, shook his head, "Your parents are…I don't even know what to...I'm trying to understand and…"

"Yeah, I know," Jimmy mumbled.

Ben reached out a hand to touch Jimmy's shoulder, pushing the other boy gently back against the wall and capturing his mouth in a hard, passionate kiss. Jimmy put his hands on Ben's hips, guiding him back away from the wall and down the corridor a few steps, never losing their contact. Then Ben broke away, brushing the hair from Jimmy's face and smiling. Jimmy moved by, clasping Ben's hand to drag him the rest of the way down the hall, and when he did, Ben's heart slammed into his chest as he caught the tail-end of an ominous figure turning the corner.

"Whoa," Ben breathed, jerking Jimmy to a halt, eyes fixed on the end of the corridor, "Babe, I think I just saw your dad."

"What?" Jimmy whispered, turning to follow Ben's gaze, "Where?"

"Over there," Ben mumbled, vaguely pointing, and quietly admitting, "I think he saw me kissing you."

"Okay. Forget about it," Jimmy mumbled, tugging Ben's hand and insisting, "Come on."

Jimmy led Ben through the house back to the front and up the spiral staircase, then through another corridor into a bedroom, that Ben instantly recognized had to be Jimmy's room. It was about the size of their entire apartment back at Berkeley. Jimmy closed the door and immediately drew Ben into a deep kiss. His hands worked at tugging Ben's shirt from out of his pants.

"Hey, hey, slow down," Ben whispered, grabbing Jimmy's hands to stop them and holding them to himself, he asked, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jimmy replied, squirming his hands from Ben's grasp and leaning forward to kiss Ben again, "I just want to be with you right now."

"No, stop, Jimmy," Ben insisted, pulling back, then exclaimed, concern quaking in his words, "I just told you your dad saw us together and you're not even worried, instead you want to have sex with your parents downstairs?"

He cupped Jimmy's cheeks, peering into his eyes, slightly glazed, his face, his cheeks tinged pink.

"Are you drunk right now?"

"Yeah," Jimmy confirmed, smiling, though it didn't reach his solemn eyes, "Why?"

"How are you drunk? All you had was two shots of whiskey, that's not enough to get you drunk," Ben cried.

"I been drinking since we got here," Jimmy murmured, his words slurry somewhat.

Ben's brow jumped, "What? When? I haven't seen you take a single drink all night."

"Exactly. That was the point, dork," Jimmy laughed, undoing the top buttons at Ben's collar and dragging him forward to suck on the soft skin of his exposed neck, whispering there, "I was being sneaky."

Ben sighed, eyes slipping shut, arms wrapping around Jimmy's shoulders, holding him close. Ben pulled Jimmy back with a hand netted at the base of his skull and dragged him into a consuming kiss, lips parting, tongues clashing. Their hands groped, slipping under shirts and searching out bare skin to caress. Ben led Jimmy towards the large bed at the center of the room, and they both dropped to it, Ben working at undoing the buttons of Jimmy's shirt, as Jimmy relaxed back, eyes on the ceiling, breath coming in flighty and fast.

"Probably shouldn't do this," Ben noted, dropping a kiss to Jimmy's mouth and pushing the shirt away to run his open palm across Jimmy's bare chest.

"Why not?" Jimmy gasped reply.

"You're drunk, and not thinking straight," Ben pointed out, fluttering kisses across Jimmy's chest and then dragging his tongue up along Jimmy's neck.

"Best time for it…" Jimmy murmured, curling his fingers in Ben's hair, and slipping his hand down Ben's shirt collar, dragging his nails up Ben's back. Ben moaned at the feel.

"No, it's not…and you're not making it easy for me to make the right choice," Ben complained, kissing Jimmy hard on the mouth again and then catching Jimmy's hands and pinning them to the bed by the wrists.

"Getting rough, are we? I always knew you were secretly kinky," Jimmy teased.

"Stop," Ben told him sternly, "Baby, you're not…wait, you would be okay with…no, no, no, stay focused, Ben. Jimmy, baby, I know your parents are driving you crazy right now, but you need to focus on the fact that your dad, who you have not told about us, probably saw us making out in the hallway."

Jimmy sighed, scowled, and muttered, "Get off me."

Ben rolled his eyes, releasing Jimmy and moving off of him. Jimmy sat up, rubbing his face wearily. He sighed and pulled his shirt the rest of the way off and stumbled to his closet. Inside were his original clothes and he began pulling them out to change. Ben sat on the edge of the bed, quietly watching.

"I fucking hate this shirt," Jimmy complained, balling the garment up tightly, then straightening it out and hanging it up, "I told my mom last year…"

"About your dad, Jimmy," Ben started.

"Stop worrying about that," Jimmy snapped, pulling his original shirt on, buttoning it and turning to glare spitefully at Ben, "You don't have to worry about that so stop."

"I do have to worry about that, actually," Ben argued, sighing, "Because…you are my boyfriend, and I love you, and whatever is about to happen with your parents, if anything at all, I'm a part of it."

There came a knock at the door and both boys flinched.

"Jimmy?" Cass's soft, muffled voice flitted into the room.

"What?" Jimmy called response.

"Dad wants to see you downstairs in his office."

"I'll come with you," Ben suggested.

"No," Jimmy said, tossing his bedroom door open and, striding out, instructed his startled sister, "Take Ben back to the dining room with you."

Then Jimmy hurried out into the hall and downstairs. Ben looked to Cass, her eyes shimmering wide.

"You have to save him," she whispered.

"What?" Ben returned.

"Please," Cass insisted, concern quaking through her words, "You have to save my brother."

* * *

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A/N: Oi...so I sort of, probably...maybe, have ADD. Never actually been diagnosed but it's likely I have a little, mild case, nothing major, only that it gets crazy exacerbated by drinking alcohol, or coffee, I don't know. Um...reading back over this, I'm like, wow, my ADD is obvious in this chapter. Either that or I'm bipolar like my mommy, that would certainly explain the sudden burst of inspiration that spat out this 60 K jumble of slurry slosh.


	22. Chapter 22

XXII.

Jimmy didn't bother knocking on his father's office door. He could hear his mother in the dining room still talking to the Gervaises, they sounded as though they were all having a good time. He slipped into the office and shut the door heavily behind him, shuffling into the room and coming to a dead stand in its center. His father was standing at the large desk pushed into the far back of the room. He had a glass, most likely filled with brandy. Jimmy didn't say anything, made no attempt to announce his presence. His father knew he was there.

"I have your grades back," Mr. Boland stated in a mild tone.

Jimmy tipped his chin down, hair falling across his face.

"Should I ask for an explanation?" Mr. Boland continued. He turned, eyeing his son darkly, "Give you a chance to make up an excuse about why you can't even manage a two point five GPA…"

"Dad…" Jimmy started.

"For Christ's sake, James, have you any idea what I had to do to get you into this college?" Mr. Boland bellowed, ripping the report card off the desk and flipping it out at his son, "That's honestly the best you can manage? You plan on being an average, worthless, nothing your whole goddamned life?"

Jimmy frowned, bit hard into his inner cheek, and remained silent.

"Or is it because you're off fooling around with that boy?" Mr. Boland demanded and Jimmy flinched.

"Ben had nothing to do with it…"

"Listen very carefully to me, you little shit, I pay for your college, I pay for your apartment, I have invested far too much money in your future for you to throw it back at me," Mr. Boland said in a calm, steely voice, "That," he pointed randomly out at the door, indicating Ben somewhere in the house, "Ends. You get your crap together, you get your grades up, you refocus your priorities."

"No," Jimmy said.

"What did you say to me?" Mr. Boland roared.

"I said no," Jimmy repeated, meeting his father's eyes, "I'll work on the grades, but I'm not breaking up with Ben. I love him."

Mr. Boland drew his breath in sharp. He took a sip from his glass and slowly closed the distance between himself and his son. His movement was so calm and calculated, Jimmy didn't recognize until it was too late what was coming, all those years and he still hadn't learned.

Jimmy stood with his head hanging down, gritting back the tears, blood rushing to his injured jaw. Mr. Boland flexed his fist and shook it out, taking another sip of his drink.

"That is not a choice you get to make," Mr. Boland seethed, "I will not stand by and watch you destroy every opportunity I have worked hard to give you because you're a nineteen year old who thinks he's gay and in love with his college roommate. You will end things with him. You will focus on your school work. You will graduate, and then, after you have the degree, you'll find 'romance'. You will pick a nice girl from one of the sororities, or if you still want something like…that…" he waved his hand dismissively, "Well then we'll see how it'll affect your career and then decide. But whatever the choice, it will not be him. You will find someone suitable, someone going into law or politics, not a fucking history professor. Do you understand me?"

There was a tap at the door and it creaked open. Jimmy kept his gaze fixed on the ground, and his father faced the far wall, ice slipping and tinkling in his glass as it melted in his hand.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry, sir, I just…" Ben's voice spoke from the door, "Jimmy…is everything okay in here?"

"Everything is fine," Mr. Boland boomed, "James, you have something to tell your friend."

Jimmy peered up at his father through the loose strands falling across his face, trembling with his rage; of course he would be expected to do it here. He tipped his head to the side, so that he could see Ben from the corner of his eye, head turned in a way that Ben couldn't see the bruise swelling in the left half of his jaw.

"Ben…" he started carefully.

Ben darted his eyes from the father to the son, obvious fear and uncertainty trembling in their depths.

"Yeah, what is it?" he whispered, words cracking just barely.

Jimmy took a deep breath, dropped his eyes, and then rolled them up to glare hatefully at his father. Mr. Boland sipped his drink, cool, collected, waiting patiently for his son to rip out that other boy's heart at his command.

"Jimmy?" Ben prompted, shifting uncomfortably at the door, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jimmy grit out, his voice unsteady at first but growing strong as he told Ben, "Nothing is going on, babe. Go grab our coats, we're leaving."

"What?" Ben gaped, as Jimmy spun, striding quickly cross the room towards him, his head ducked down.

"James," Mr. Boland bellowed, moving swiftly to grab hold of his son's arm, jerking him round, "Don't you dare…"

"It's something that makes me happy, dad, I never did expect you to understand," Jimmy spat, ripping his arm from his father's grasp, and shoving Ben from the room, "I've given you everything else, you're not taking this."

Outside of the office, Jimmy snatched Ben's hand and dragged him down the corridor. They burst into the dining room briefly, the Gervaises and Mrs. Boland startling at the entry.

"We're leaving, mom," Jimmy announced

"What? No, you are not, I already told you, we are taking family pictures after…"

But Jimmy was already on his way out.

"Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Boland, it was all really good," Ben called over his shoulder, hastening to keep up with Jimmy's fast pace.

Jimmy tore through the winding corridors, still clutching Ben's hand tight. At their backs, they could hear Mr. Boland burst through the rooms in hot pursuit. They ran into Cass in the hall, pressed against the wall in shock and fright, and Jimmy pressed a kiss to her forehead in passing.

"I'll call you later," he promised.

"It was nice to meet you," Ben said.

Jimmy tugged Ben insistently down the hall. He didn't pause for their coats, pulling the keys from his pockets and pressing them into Ben's hand.

"You drive," he instructed, opening the front door and ushering Ben out, he took one last look back into the house, met his father's eyes briefly, and then swiftly followed after.

"James, if you walk out that door," Mr. Boland roared, "Don't you ever think about coming back."

Jimmy slammed the door on his father's last words.


	23. Chapter 23

XXIII.

The drive back to the Mason home was silent. Ben made a few attempts at conversation, but Jimmy wouldn't reply. He had his eyes trained out the passenger window; his shaggy hair was mussed and fell across his face, veiling his features. He held Ben's hand tightly, as though he were standing on a precipice and it were the tether keeping him from falling off into a void of dark and terrible thoughts. Once Ben parked the car, Jimmy muttered something about going for a walk and meandered down the street, hands in his pockets and head hung low.

"Babe, you don't even have a coat," Ben called out, but Jimmy didn't pause in his stride, sprinting at one point to the corner of the street and turning down it.

Ben contemplated chasing after, knew better, and headed up the walk of his parents' home instead. He put his keys in the lock, turned, opened the door a crack, then closed it without entering.

"Fuck," he muttered. He leaned against the doorframe and slid to sitting on the porch, drawing his knees up and leaning across them. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, long enough for his hands and feet to go numb and ears to blister with pain, when his father opened the door.

"Ben, son?" Tom whispered, and Ben stirred slightly, "What are you doing out here? And where's your coat?" He peeked around outside and then asked, "And where's Jimmy?"

Ben shrugged, "He went for a walk."

Tom stepped onto the porch wearing his robe and slippers, shivering and hugging himself. He glanced around again, then settled his focus back on his son.

"Come on, get inside, it's cold out here," Tom commanded, nudging Ben's shoulder.

Reluctantly, Ben stood up, his legs pins and needles, his body aching with ice coursing hot through his veins. He trudged into the house and Tom set him on the couch in the family room. Tom disappeared momentarily and returned with a blanket, tossing it over Ben's shoulders and then left again and returned with a hot mug of tea, handing it over. Ben clutched it between his palms, letting the warmth flow through his limbs. Then Tom plopped on the couch beside Ben.

"What's going on?" Tom demanded immediately, "Did you and Jimmy get in a fight?"

"No," Ben murmured, he sneezed several times in succession, and then sniffled and smirked darkly, "I know where he gets it from now."

"What? Gets what from?" Tom pressed, confusion riddled in his overwhelmingly concerned features.

"I always knew that he could be…and I mean, you've seen how he can be…but…I had no idea," Ben continued, sounding dazed and looking flushed and feverish, "Dad, his parents are _intense_," he shifted, straightening and leaning forward on his knees, "We get there and…and…his dad is at work. Okay. No big deal, I guess. People work through the holidays. Right? His mom is in the kitchen and she…five pies. She made five pies. For ten people. And a cake. There was also a cake. And steak, and a duck la French thing, I can't say it, Jimmy can say it. It's like she thinks she's feeding an army."

Rebekah shuffled into the room wearing her own robe and slippers, yawning, and darting a questioning look at Tom. He shrugged silent response to her and she came to sit beside her son, putting her arms around him and rubbing his arms in attempt to warm him.

"She made me take cider. I didn't want it…but…mom, you have to stop asking Jimmy if he wants things, he doesn't know that he can say no," Ben told his mother in a childish voice.

"Okay, baby, okay," Rebekah whispered, pushing the hair off Ben's forehead and then checking his temperature with the back of her hand.

"Because you can't say no to his mom. She won't allow it," Ben went on, "Their house is huge. And it's spotless. She cleans it all herself. It's funny to them that she would need…that she would let anyone else clean the house. Because no, why would she trust anyone else to clean it. I didn't know if I could touch anything. Nothing looked like it had ever been touched. Not even ten minutes in the door, she tells him he's disappointed her. That's almost the first thing she says to him. That he's a lifelong disappointment. And he just…takes it. No big deal. Whatever. Okay."

Rebekah and Tom exchanged worried looks over Ben's head.

"His dad gets there and they shake hands, and that's their greeting. A handshake. Not even a 'how are you' or a 'how was the trip'," Ben continued, "That's just about the only interaction they had with each other that entire dinner, that handshake. I thought this dinner was supposed to be a family thing…to welcome Jimmy back but it wasn't. They had people over, the Gervaises…lovely family, very creepy children, and they were more concerned about these people than their own son."

Ben sneezed again, coughed, and sniffled. He held the mug so that its steam wafted up into his face.

"He hadn't told his parents about us," Ben quietly whispered, grimacing as he confessed, "His dad saw us in the hall. It was one kiss and…"

Tom straightened, taking a deep breath, and Rebekah tightened her arm around Ben's shoulders.

"I don't know what happened. They went to talk and his sister…Jimmy's sister was worried, she kept telling me to go in and…and…" Ben said, "I didn't want to at first, I thought, they should talk it out and give it a chance…but she kept insisting and she seemed really scared, so I went in…and…I don't know. It looked like they definitely had a fight. Jimmy told me we were leaving and we bolted, we didn't even grab our coats. It was my good coat."

"Where is Jimmy now, hon?" Rebekah asked.

"I don't know," Ben whimpered, burying his face in his hand, "A walk, I guess."

"I'll go drive around, see if I can find him," Tom suggested, standing and giving his son's shoulder a squeeze in passing.

"Mom, I didn't know people could be like that," Ben whispered, looking at his mother from around his palm.

"Well, honey, that's because your father and I never wanted you to ever know that they could," Rebekah told him earnestly, giving him a bone-crushing hug.

Tom didn't make it out the door for his promised drive, as Jimmy stumbled into the house at that moment. His whole body was trembling, his eyes downcast. Ben reached him first, taking the blanket off and tossing it over Jimmy's shoulders, embracing the other boy in a way that threatened never to let go.

"Sweetie, let him in the door," Rebekah recommended, examining the young man trembling on her doorstep, "Jimmy, your clothes are damp. We need to get you changed into something dry and warm. Ben, take him upstairs and put him in a hot shower and get him in some fresh clothes. I'm going to get you boys some medicine and make some tea and broth. I'll be surprised if you both haven't caught the flu."

Rebekah disappeared into the kitchen and Tom followed after. Ben loosened his grip, guiding Jimmy into the house. Partway up the stairs, Ben noticed the discoloring on Jimmy's jaw and faltered, gently gripping his chin and turning his face to examine it. Jimmy swatted him away.

"Baby, what happened?" Ben demanded, terrible thoughts dropping into his mind like a stone cutting through the surface of a lake and causing rage to churn and rippling outward. Jimmy's posturing on their run from the house and the trip home had been strangely suspicious. Ben quietly voiced his sudden sickening fear, "Did that happen at the house?"

"No," Jimmy murmured, his voice a harsh rasp, and barely audible. He raised his hand to cover the bruising, "No. I…um…slipped outside. Forget it."

Ben sat on the lidded toilet in the bathroom as Jimmy showered, worrying the other boy might pass out from exhaustion or fever, and, also, not really wanting to leave him alone. Jimmy turned the water off, climbed from the shower, dried and dressed, his movements almost mechanical. Ben sat and watched him anxiously the entire time. Then Jimmy came to stand in front of Ben, placing his hands on Ben's shoulders, leaning down to kiss him.

"I'm fine," Jimmy assured Ben, and Ben responded by snaking his arms around Jimmy's waist, tugging Jimmy forward and resting his head against Jimmy's stomach, a child refusing to let go of his favorite toy.

"I'm sorry," Ben whispered, "I'm sorry I made you come back here."

"It's okay," Jimmy murmured, running his fingers through Ben's hair and smiling distantly, "I love you."

Ben put his chin on Jimmy's belly and grinned up at him, "I love you too."

They both pulled back then and covered sneezes, Ben laughing while Jimmy made a face.

* * *

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A/N: So I decided it counts as fluff, it totally counts as fluff, because there are way more fluffy moments in this story than not! So there. Fluff.

I don't know.

And what do _you_ think on the subject?


	24. Chapter 24

XXIV.

In the morning, Jimmy and Ben lingered in bed, vacillating between wanting to wrap themselves up in each other's arms and never let go and feeling too ill and gross that they didn't want to touch themselves let alone each other. Rebekah had made them take medicine before bed the night before, and she brought them more sometime around midday, then set up a tray with chicken noodle soup, saltine crackers, and hot tea with lemon and honey. She told them the family was going to the skating rink, and that the boys would have the house to themselves, so to rest and feel better.

The boys sipped the tea and soup, then took turns showering, and, since they were starting to feel a little better, they walked downstairs and sat in the family room. Jimmy played the video game, while Ben lay across the couch with his head in Jimmy's lap and read. In that still silence, it felt as though they were back home at Berkeley, relaxing together on a quiet Saturday or Sunday, unwinding from a week of classes. Eventually, Ben set his book down and gazed up at Jimmy for a few moments.

"So…where did you go on your walk last night?" Ben wondered, because it was driving him insane that Jimmy had yet to say anything about the conversation with his father in that house. Jimmy wrinkled his brow and shrugged.

"Nowhere. Just around the corner. I called Ryan," he said casually.

Ben sat up, a twinge of pain in his chest.

"You called Ryan?" Ben repeated, incredulous.

Jimmy paused the game and looked curiously at Ben.

"Yeah. Why?" he returned plaintively.

"Why is a good question," Ben countered, coughing haggardly into his fist, "Why did you call Ryan?"

"I needed to talk, and he's my best friend," Jimmy said, as though it were the most apparent thing in the world.

"You needed to talk? And you couldn't talk to me?"

"Well…no, that's…"

"Instead you had to wander around in the middle of winter without a coat, give yourself a head cold to talk to Ryan – the guy with a crush on you, remember, and give me a head cold waiting outside for you to come back…"

"You didn't have to wait outside," Jimmy pointed out.

"Yes, I did," Ben cried, "You had a fight with your dad and took off in the middle of the night, what was I supposed to do? Watch TV? Eat my mom's cookies? Go to bed?"

"Yes, all of the above. What the hell were you waiting outside for?" Jimmy demanded.

"For you to come back and talk to me," Ben exclaimed, "Which you still haven't done."

"What's there to talk about? You wouldn't understand anyways," Jimmy muttered, returning to the game. Ben gaped at him.

"But Ryan understands," Ben whispered bitter respite.

Jimmy said nothing; he kept his eyes fixed on the video game although he was starting to take a significant number of hits and missing a good deal more shots. The doorbell rang and Ben relented, sighed, and left to answer it. Jimmy paused the game again, tossing the controller on the couch and rubbing his face viciously with the keel of his hands. It wasn't as though he didn't want to talk to Ben about his parents, it wasn't even as though Ben wasn't the preference for talking about it, but there were too many questions that could be asked, too many answers that Jimmy wasn't yet, maybe never would be, ready to give, too much darkness and too many horrible things that he didn't want Ben, so filled with light and goodness to ever have to know about, and Jimmy desperately wished he could explain that. He faltered at the sound of a familiar, unwelcome voice approaching.

"…need to talk to you, Ben," Cole was saying, entering the family room and meeting Jimmy's wide-eyed stare of stun with a reproachful glare of his own.

"Cole, now is really not a good time," Ben protested.

"What is he doing here?" Jimmy demanded, standing from the couch, then wavering slightly from the mixture of sudden movement and cold medicine.

"I don't know," Ben said, "I'm trying to sort it out. Cole, Jimmy and me are not feeling well right now and…"

Cole turned to face Ben.

"I want you back," Cole said plainly.

Jimmy's hands instantly curled into tight fists, and Ben's jaw unhinged.

"You…what…?" Ben gaped.

"I know that I hurt you and that I have no right to say that," Cole continued.

"Damn straight," Jimmy bit out.

"But you have to know that it hurt me too, having to make that choice. You were – you are still – the most important person to me in the world, and having to give you up killed me, Ben. I've thought about you every day and I haven't stopped loving you for one minute," Cole went on, stepping forward towards Ben. Ben leaned back, eying Cole warily, and stunned speechless, "I know that you still love me…"

Ben's eyes flashed to Jimmy, the other boy was glaring heatedly at the ground, violence threatening in his stance.

"Cole…I'm with someone…" Ben attempted to regain his voice.

"I know that, Ben, but he's not right for you. I know it, your family knows it – I saw that at dinner, and your friends know it, they've told me," Cole cut in.

"You talked to my friends," Ben gasped.

"Yes. And they've told me…"

"Unbelievable," Jimmy muttered.

"That this guy you were with was all wrong for you, that they think you're still hurt from what happened with me, and you're making bad choices, getting yourself involved with someone who might not be right for you, and I didn't want to believe that I could have done that to you, but then I saw it with my own eyes," Cole rambled on, jabbing an accusatory finger Jimmy's direction, "You don't belong with him, you belong with me."

"Cole…" Ben seethed.

"I know what happened in the past, I was a young kid, Ben, I was too afraid to hold on to what I loved, too afraid of losing my father's respect, that I made the biggest mistake of my life," Cole continued unabated, "But I'm not afraid anymore, not if it means losing you forever, and not if it means losing you to someone like him, someone who doesn't deserve you, someone that can take fifty-grand for granted won't treat you well, I know that. I'll tell my father today, I'll tell everyone that I'm in love with you, I don't care who knows or what they think, I want you back."

Cole grabbed hold of Ben's shoulders then and dragged him into a rough kiss. Ben struggled to push him off.

"What the fuck, man?" Jimmy exploded, advancing on Cole, shoving him back and readying to swing. Ben hastened in the way, putting himself between the two and slipping his hand on Jimmy's cheek, an attempt to soothe him and pull his attention away from attacking Cole.

"Baby, go wait upstairs, please? Please go upstairs," Ben pleaded, pushing Jimmy towards the exit. Reluctantly, Jimmy left the room, trembling with rage and muttering curses under his breath. Ben waited until he heard the bedroom door slam before reeling on Cole.

"Ben…I'm sorry that…"

"Stop," Ben said, a fine edge to his tone, he took a deep breath and started harshly, "It's true that you hurt me. I was heartbroken for a long time because of you. I kept wondering why? Why wasn't I enough? Why wasn't being with me, loving me, my love for you enough of a reason for you to stand by me? I thought about it a lot and, I won't lie, it ate away at me. It made me doubt myself; it made me afraid to care about anyone again, to try for something I might want, to let myself just trust someone and have faith in them. And I've made mistakes with other guys because of it. But that was a long time ago. I've gotten over it, Cole, I've moved on. I'm _with_ someone else. And…and, you know, I am not even going to get into how insensitive and just…completely fucked up it was that you did that in front of him."

"Ben," Cole began protest.

"Shut up," Ben snapped, locking eyes with the other boy, a burning intensity in the depths of his shimmering orbs, "You already said enough. I'm in a relationship with Jimmy. I don't know what my friends told you about it, and believe me I will be having a long discussion with them about it very soon, but if this is the conclusion you drew from what they've said, then they were grievously mistaken, and I do apologize for that confusion. I love Jimmy, and I am happy with him. And you know being with him, how happy I feel when I'm with him, has made me realize…Cole, I wasn't happy with you. I was happy…but just…happy to be with someone that wanted me like that…but it wasn't because of you. It was never because of you. You know, I felt like I had to be all these different people when I was with you, and when I'm with Jimmy all I have to be is myself. Hell, he'd give me shit if I tried to be anyone or anything else."

Ben folded his arms over his chest and smirked softly.

"Funny thing is I never would've gone for him if it wasn't for you…for what you did to me. I never would've thought to go for the most abrasive, anti-social person on campus, except at that point in my life, I think I just wanted to go after something I felt entirely certain I could never get. I just wanted an absolute certainty of rejection so that it wouldn't sting so much when it happened," he noted humorously, then shook his head and glared up at Cole, the young man across the room finally had the good sense to look abashed at his actions, "I resent that you came in here thinking that you could just say you wanted me back and that would be it, as if all this time I've just been sitting around waiting for you to come back for me. I hate that you said those things about Jimmy, about us, in front of him, as if you know anything about him and who we are together. And…and I feel very sorry for you, that you're still holding on to something that I had forgotten about a long time ago. And I did forget about it, Cole, you aren't even a footnote in my life. Now…if you don't mind, I need to go throw up. Not because of…well, not entirely because of you…I have a cold and all this standing and moving around is not good for my stomach…um…so I would appreciate if you left. And…uh…don't come back. Ever."

Ben turned from the devastated young man in front of him and left the room, and trudging upstairs. Cole could find his own way out.

"Good bye, Cole," he muttered lazily over his shoulder.


	25. Chapter 25

XXV.

After having been so unceremoniously dismissed upstairs by Ben and slamming the bedroom door behind himself, Jimmy paced relentlessly across the floor several times. How could Ben hold him back like that and then send him away? Wasn't it his right to rip that other boy's face off? What the fuck kind of person came to another's house, confessed his undying love and kissed that other person against his will, right in front of that other person's boyfriend? Didn't a person like that, with such a complete and utter lack of respect, deserve to have his ass thoroughly kicked by said boyfriend?

Jimmy certainly thought so. He faltered in his pacing and wondered painfully, so why didn't Ben. The possible answers ached through Jimmy.

Maybe because the kiss wasn't entirely against Ben's will. Maybe because Ben returned that undying love.

Jimmy shook his head and glared at the ground. He started straightening and re-straightening things around the room to occupy his mind. But eventually that wore on him, as he thought of the fight he and Ben had moments before Cole showed up.

Would it really have hurt so much to talk to Ben, Jimmy wondered, to confess everything about his family? Or was he right in assuming that someone who came from such a perfect family, where the love is unconditional, could never understand a home as broken as the Bolands'?

Jimmy sat on the edge of the bed and buried his head in his hands. Maybe Cole was right, Jimmy and Ben were wrong for each other.

The front door slammed downstairs and Jimmy moved across the bed to get a look outside the window. He saw Cole moving across the street, shaking his head at the ground. He unlocked a Volvo and climbed inside. Jimmy turned when the bedroom door creaked open, his wide, questioning eyes on the boy standing in its frame. Ben gave Jimmy a small smile, walked into the room a few paces, hung his head and sighed.

"What happened?" Jimmy asked.

"Uh…" Ben shrugged, and sheepishly murmured, "Well…I told him I'd run away with him, we're getting eloped."

"What?" Jimmy cried, starting up from the bed in anger but uncertain what he would do with all of his rage. Maybe if he hurried he could catch up to Cole and beat the shit out of him after all.

"Calm down, I'm just joking," Ben grinned at Jimmy, laughing, "I told him to get lost," he ran a hand over his face and groaned, "God, that was embarrassing. I can't believe he actually kissed me."

"I can't believe you didn't let me break his face," Jimmy seethed, settling back down on the bed and peering curiously at Ben, "You weren't tempted? To dump me, go with him?"

"Fuck no," Ben scoffed, crossing the room and dropping a kiss to the top of Jimmy's head, "I stopped wanting him the day I watched him making out with his new girlfriend, her leaned against my locker in the halls of our high school."

"Seriously?" Jimmy perked a brow, demanding, "And I wasn't allowed to hit him because…?"

Ben shrugged, "I didn't want you to get blood on the carpet, it might upset my parents, and I know how much you want them to like you."

Jimmy smirked distantly, lowering his eyes again.

"They do, like you, you know," Ben said, plopping on the bed beside Jimmy, "My family. They like you."

"They do?" Jimmy pressed, half-teasing, "You're not just saying that."

"Well, my mom is easy to win over, she likes anyone I tell her to, so, she's a definite. You fed Matt, so you've got his vote. You and Karen formed some unholy alliance yesterday at brunch, ganged up on me and Hal, so that's three. Hal doesn't challenge just anyone to eating contests, so you've got his thumbs up. And when my dad called me into his study at dinner the other night, the night that Cole swore he thought my family disapproved of you, well my dad gave me the wedding watch and told me to go ahead and let you know you had his approval," Ben told Jimmy, "That's the whole family. Except my nephew, but I don't think he'll be casting a vote until you stop calling him 'brat'."

Jimmy smiled, letting the knowledge that he'd somehow managed to gain every Masons' approval sink in a moment, before furrowing his brow and musing, "Wedding watch?"

"Uh…that's nothing. Forget it," Ben said hastily, laying back on the bed and sighing.

Jimmy turned to lean over Ben, relaxing a kiss against his mouth.

"The thing we were talking about…before Cole rudely interrupted," Ben started.

Jimmy pulled back abruptly, spinning round and glaring at the far wall.

"I thought we were done with that," he bit out.

Ben sat up, opening his mouth to say something, but the front door opening downstairs, the sounds of his family shuffling inside, cut him off.

"Boys, we're back," Tom called from downstairs.

"I guess we are done," Ben muttered, slumping back down on the bed again.

There was a sound of footsteps on the stairs and then Rebekah filled the doorframe.

"Hey, you two feeling any better?" she asked, entering the room and pressing a hand first to Jimmy's forehead and then to Ben's.

"A little," Ben said, pointing at the bathroom, murmuring, "I threw up a few minutes ago."

"That's good, baby, get it out of your system," Rebekah told him, pushing his hair back and smiling. She gently touched Jimmy's shoulder to get his attention, and he stirred slightly, glancing at her, "What about you, hon, you feeling better?"

"Yeah. Sure," Jimmy mumbled, "Thank you, Mrs. Mason."

"Karen was thinking about making dinner tonight, if you boys are feeling up to it," Rebekah said.

"Karen is going to cook?" Ben gaped, "She can do that?"

"Hal hasn't starved yet, so I believe she's capable," Rebekah chuckled, then explained, "I think Jimmy cooking the other night might have made her feel a little like she needed to do something."

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to do something nice, I didn't mean for anyone…" Jimmy began to stammer, but Rebekah shushed him, swatting a hand his direction.

"Don't worry about it," she clucked, "Anything that gets me out of the kitchen is perfectly fine by me…now if you could only motivate one of my boys or my husband to learn how to cook…I tell them if they aren't going to help, then they have no room to talk, but that doesn't stop the Peanut Gallery comments about my food. I'll let Karen know that you two are in, I'll start you boys some more tea also."

"Thanks, mom," Ben called as Jimmy said, "Thank you, Mrs. Mason."

Rebekah left back downstairs. Jimmy lay down on the bed beside Ben, folding his arms over his stomach and staring up at the ceiling.

"You know, we will have a problem if you decide to act jealous every time I talk to Ryan," Jimmy quietly noted, "His feelings for me aside, he's still my best friend."

"It won't be every time. Just the times you talk to him when you should be talking to me," Ben returned bitterly.

"And who gets to decide when those times are? You?" Jimmy challenged, pulling himself off the bed and heading for the door, "Because I'll talk to you when I feel like talking and right now, you know what? I really don't feel like talking."


	26. Chapter 26

XXVI.

From the smells of things in the kitchen, Karen was a fairly adept cook, and Rebekah and Ben sat at the dining table watching her son as she worked, Tom and Hal had gone outside to play 'catch' with the lacrosse sticks, which left Jimmy in the family room watching Matt play his video game. For a few minutes, Matt darted awkward, uncertain glances Jimmy's way, and Jimmy sipped his tea, curled up like a cat on the other end of the sofa.

"You're pretty good at this game," Jimmy commented, when he couldn't stand the looks anymore.

"Yeah," Matt mumbled, and then proudly added, "It's the only thing I can beat my brothers at."

"Oh. That's cool," Jimmy said. He shifted, settling himself deeper in the sofa and mused, "I guess it's not easy being youngest, huh? Hal is the athlete and Ben is the scholar, you're not really left with anything."

Matt shrugged, "It's okay." He smirked, "Now that they're both out of the house, mom and dad spoil me rotten."

"Yeah," Jimmy laughed.

"You want to play?" Matt asked suddenly.

"I don't know if…" Jimmy stammered, taken aback.

"Here. It's easy," Matt said, pausing the game and starting a two player, retrieving the other controller and handing it over. He pointed out the different buttons, though Jimmy thought to mention he already knew how to play, but it was obvious Matt was enjoying his perceived position as having more knowledge, "That one moves, shoots…inventory…jump, weapon toggle…map toggle…this one moves camera…this button swaps from first to third person…and…that one's special…but you have to have a special in the slot."

"Okay…I think I got it," Jimmy returned.

When Matt started the game, Jimmy fumbled the character around, making sure to pull a few rookie moves – walking onto mines or right into the line of fire. He died on purpose a couple times, though let himself 'get lucky' on occasion. Matt offered pointers, smiling when Jimmy seemed to be 'getting it', but grinning broadly every time he scored higher kills. Jimmy couldn't help smiling at the younger boy, his enthusiasm almost as infectious as Ben's could be.

Karen called everyone into the dining room then, saying that dinner was done. Matt turned the game off and they went to join the rest of the family around the table, plates were already laid out with food.

"This looks amazing, hon," Hal praised, placing his hand on Karen's hip and giving her a quick kiss, and everyone else offered up their compliments.

They all dug in, certain to say something nice about each item and Karen beamed. Jimmy chose something off his plate that looked like a dumpling of some sort and bit into it, furrowing his brow as he chewed it thoughtfully. It was an interesting flavor, he didn't recognize the taste. Though, oddly enough, it almost tingled a little. A few of the others around the dinner table were trying the same item and Rebekah asked what was in it.

"Oh…those are…uh…a veggie slaw and crab with an oyster sauce in a wonton wrapper and I just…" Karen started explaining.

Jimmy frowned, the blood draining from his face, as he delicately placed the dumpling back on the plate. He quietly picked his napkin up and spat out his mouthful into it, the others pausing in their conversation to watch him curiously. A look of hurt crossed Karen's face.

"What's the matter, Jimmy, you don't like it?" she wondered.

Jimmy glanced at her and smiled weakly, then leaned into Ben and whispered something in his ear.

Ben's face fell.

"_How_ allergic?" he cried question.

"Call 911," Jimmy recommended in a rasped wheeze.

By the time the paramedics arrived, ten minutes later, Jimmy was lying on the couch, attempting to cover the obvious swelling around his mouth and throat and gasping desperately for air, Tom behind the couch, standing over him and trying to talk him slowly through each breath, and Ben squatting on the ground beside him in the front side of the couch gripping his hand tightly. Karen was in hysterics, Hal and Rebekah trying to calm her.

"I am so sorry, Jimmy, I had no idea," Karen cried, "I swear, I had no idea, I am so, so sorry. Please do not die. Oh my God, Ben, I tried to kill your boyfriend, I am so sorry."

"Oh, no, no, honey, it's okay, no one is blaming you, you didn't know," Rebekah soothed Karen, rubbing the young woman's shoulder.

"How do you live with a guy five months and not know he's allergic to shellfish?" Hal demanded of Ben.

"I don't know, he never said anything," Ben replied frantically, "I just thought he didn't like lobster."

"Hal, that is not helping anything," Tom shouted.

Matt let the paramedics inside, and they told the Masons to leave the room as they worked. Once they had Jimmy's airway cleared, they loaded him in the ambulance and let the Masons know where they would be taking him. Ben asked to come, but the paramedics wouldn't allow it. Tom drove him to the hospital and when they arrived, Jimmy had already been taken to the back, and the receptionist refused to give them any information on his condition, so they took up vigil in the waiting room.

Ben sat slumped over his knees, rubbing his hands together anxiously and glaring at the clock across the room. Tom was leaned back, flipping through a magazine disinterestedly. He kept checking his watch. Nearby, a baby screamed, and an old man coughed.

"This is ridiculous," Tom muttered, "It's been almost an hour."

"Why can't they just tell us something?" Ben griped, "At least if he's okay or not. Is that really such an 'intrusion of privacy'? A 'yes, he's alive' or 'he's okay' or something…"

Tom sighed, shifting to put his arm around his son's shoulders. More time ticked by. A loud family came in and took up occupancy on the other side of the waiting room. A man with long dark hair and a grizzled face staggered in gripping his bloody hand in a rolled up t-shirt and plopped in the seat next to Tom. He was drenched in the smell of alcohol.

"You know, I cannot stand people like that," he complained to Tom about the family across the waiting room, "Think the whole goddamn world is theirs, no consideration for anyone else. Wouldn't it be nice if the world ended, took out most of the population? Assholes like that. I know I wouldn't weep," he smacked Tom's shoulder to gain his attention, "What do you think…should they maybe…" he shouted across the room, "Shut the hell up."

The family and some of the people in the room shot the man dark looks, while others nearby muttered agreement.

"Sir, I don't think that's necessary," Tom politely reprimanded the man. The man made a face at him, sniffed indignantly, than glanced at Ben.

"That your son? He seems down in the dumps," the man commented, "What's wrong, kid? Why so glum? I mean, this is the happiest place on Earth!"

"His friend was recently admitted, we're waiting for news," Tom remarked sharply, "Now, if you could please…"

"Well that sucks," the man grumbled, not sounding at all sympathetic and turning his attention to the overhead television demanded, "Why are we watching this crap? Hey, idiot, you there…if we got to suffer through network channels then _All My Children_ is on. Now be a good boy, and stand up and change the channel. Get up, change the channel…get up, get up…change the channel. Thank you."

* * *

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A/N:So if you don't recall, in First Patrol, one the dreams, I mentioned that Jimmy is allergic to shrimp, his parents argue about it..."he's allergic to shrimp, asshole", "you're mom's just being a bitch, James", "you're father's just trying to kill you, James"...yeah, that whole scene. I kind of expanded that to he's basically allergic to most all shellfish.

Okay, so the whole reason that the paramedics wouldn't let Ben ride with Jimmy to the hospital was mainly because Ben was pretty hysterical, but the thing with the receptionist is insanely annoying, you've no idea. Some receptionists are more tight-lipped than others though, when my mom was in the hospital someone let slip to one of her friends over the phone why she was there and it was more than a little upsetting.

Though, fun story, a while back me and my family had an impromptu reunion in a hospital emergency room once because my younger cousin put himself there playing samurai with a cue-stick that broke and ripped through the skin that connects his thumb and index finger. His sister rushed him there, he got stitches, but she couldn't check him out after because she wasn't over 18! So she called everyone in the family because her mom was tied up for a few hours and we all came there in an attempt to get him released to us, but they wouldn't, and thus...reunion! It was fun, we were the loud family that Pope yelled at in this chapter, I suppose.


	27. Chapter 27

XXVII.

After almost two and a half hours of waiting, a dark haired woman in a white lab coat appeared from the back. She exchanged a few words with the receptionist and was pointed Tom and Ben's direction, and briskly strode towards them. They both scrambled to their feet at her approach, their bodies aching and sore from sitting so long in the hard waiting room chairs.

"You're the Mason family?" she verified.

"Yeah, yes," Ben quickly confirmed, "Jimmy, how is he?"

"He's fine," she told them, smiling warmly, extending a hand, that they both shook, and telling them, "I'm Dr. Glass; I'm one of the on-call doctors for the night. I treated Jimmy when he came in. Is one of you Ben?"

"Yes, that's me," Ben piped up.

"Great, he's been asking about you since he got here," Dr. Glass said, "I can take you back to see him now if you'll follow me."

"Go see him, son, I'll wait here," Tom suggested, ushering Ben forward after the doctor, shrugging, "He probably won't want me back there anyway."

Dr. Glass led the way into the back, and they passed several rooms, some with the doors closed, and others open and empty. Then Dr. Glass stopped at one of the doors and knocked, then opened the door. Jimmy lay on the bed inside, a few IVs attached to his arm, a tube down his throat and oxygen mask over his face. There were several machines attached to him and lined up next to the bed, monitoring his various vitals. The swelling on his face had gone down some, but he was still struggling to breath. Ben immediately went to take Jimmy's hand, and Dr. Glass stepped inside of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

"What's going on?" Ben demanded of the doctor, "Is he okay? What are all of these things?"

Dr. Glass glanced at Jimmy for permission and he gave a small nod, squeezing Ben's hand and meeting the other boy's eyes.

"Jimmy went into what's called anaphylactic shock. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes," Ben murmured. It was a severe allergic reaction, Jimmy's entire body had been on the attack and shutting down.

"Okay, that's good…um…the EMTs administered epinephrine on the way over, that's adrenaline, just to try and reduce his body's response to the allergen, we've given him a little more here. We've also got him on some antihistamines, to bring down the inflammation, and beta blockers. We're trying to get his blood pressure back up and his airways clear so he can breathe more easily," Dr. Glass explained, "Now, he did go into cardiac arrest on the way over."

Ben tensed and his breath hitched. He tightened his grip on Jimmy's hand, twining their fingers.

"But right now he's doing fine," Dr. Glass continued, "We're going to move him to a room upstairs and keep him overnight for further monitoring. I'm concerned about his blood pressure, his numbers aren't moving up as quickly as I'd like."

"I want to stay with him," Ben declared.

Dr. Glass lowered her eyes, her expression apologetic, as she softly told him, "I'm sorry, sweetie; you won't be able to."

Ben set a hard glare on the far wall. His body trembling with frustration.

"When can I come back in the morning?" he demanded through a clenched jaw.

"Eight at the earliest," Dr. Glass told him, then smiled and told him gently, "But if you come in at six, go through the pediatric ward, and look for me, I'll sneak you up. Okay?"

Ben softened his expression on her and nodded, whispering, "Okay. Thank you."

"I have to go. They'll be in to take him upstairs once his room is ready and he's all checked in," Dr. Glass said, coming over to stand at the other side of Jimmy's bed. She placed her hand gently on his shoulder and told him, "I don't want to see you in here again like this, okay, sweetie? Be more careful about what you're eating. Look how worried you've got this one."

Jimmy nodded and attempted a smile around the tube in his throat. She grinned, told Ben she would see him in the morning, and then strode out of the room. As soon as the door closed, Ben fluttered kisses across Jimmy's forehead and cheeks, careful of the various medical paraphernalia attached to him; until he was satisfied he'd gotten his point across. Then he leaned forward on the bed, bringing Jimmy's hand up to rest against his mouth.

"Don't ever do that to me again," he whispered haggardly, sighing, and closing his eyes, "I swear, my heart stopped when you said you were allergic to shellfish. You scared the shit out of me."

Ben frowned, stared into Jimmy's eyes a few minutes. Jimmy wrinkled his brow, then relaxed his expression, attempted a smile. He gestured for Ben to lean down more and brought his hand up to trace his fingers along the side of Ben's face, his ear, jaw, neck. The gentle touch had a calming effect and Ben smiled vaguely.

"Why didn't you tell me you were allergic to shellfish?" he wondered.

Jimmy shrugged, for once having an excuse to not talk, as he moved the tube in his mouth a bit.

Ben sighed. He brushed the hair from Jimmy's forehead, and leaned forward to cover him in kisses again.

There was a knock at the door and Ben straightened, turning to face it, still holding Jimmy's hand when it opened and a couple RNs entered.

"We're going to move him to his room upstairs now," one of them politely informed Ben, "We have to ask you to leave, because we have to move the equipment and we need the room to maneuver. You can come back tomorrow to see him."

"Yeah, I know," Ben murmured bitterly, frowning, he pressed a firm kiss to Jimmy's forehead and promised, "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Jimmy nodded, giving Ben's hand a last squeeze. Then Ben slid out of the room. He waited, watching as the RNs moved Jimmy, putting him in a wheelchair and rolling him out down the hall and round a corner out of sight.

Ben went back to the waiting room where Tom was flipping through another magazine, the drunk man from earlier was gone. Tom stood as soon as his son appeared.

"Where's Jimmy?" Tom asked.

"They're going to keep him overnight," Ben mumbled, eyes downcast, jaw stiff, voice cracking slightly as he explained, "I guess he's fine, but they're worried his heart might stop again so…"

"I see," Tom whispered.

"They said I can come back tomorrow at eight but Dr. Glass is going to get me in at six," Ben continued absently.

"That's nice of her," Tom remarked, "She seemed like a good person. I'm sure she'll take good care of Jimmy."

"He won't be admitted to her. She's a pediatrician," Ben mumbled.

"Right, then I'm sure whoever does care for him will do a great job," Tom said, clapping a hand to Ben's shoulder and giving it an encouraging squeeze, "Let's get heading home, alright? Everyone's going to want an update on Jimmy's condition, and you might want to put together a change of clothes for him for tomorrow, and to get to bed so you can wake up bright and early to be here."

"I'm probably not going to sleep tonight," Ben sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, as his father led him from the hospital and out towards the parking lot, "I'm sorry about this, dad, I don't know why he never told me he was allergic to shellfish."

"I'm sure it never occurred to him to mention it," Tom laughed, "Food allergies don't usually make it into every day conversations, people with them are usually very practiced in managing them. By the time you met him at the university, he probably already knew where to eat, what foods to order, you don't cook, and when he prepares food, he knows what he can't eat, so there never would've been a reason for him to bring it up. And he's already a particular person, so you wouldn't have thought to question it when he told you he didn't want to eat some where or some thing. It's perfectly understandable."

"I guess," Ben mumbled, faltering when they reached the car, staring blankly at the ground, trouble brewing in his features.

"What's wrong, son?" Tom questioned, examining Ben concernedly.

"I don't know," Ben whispered, looking up at his dad, "I don't know what to do."

Tom folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side, "About what?"

"There's that bruising on Jimmy's face," Ben started carefully, "He said he slipped when he went on that walk after we got home from his parents' house."

"I was wondering about it," Tom remarked.

"Yeah…well, this morning he told me that…that he didn't really go on a walk…that he just went around the corner and called a friend," Ben revealed, and then quietly confessed, "I think his dad hit him."

"Oh," Tom murmured, nodding his head as though it were to be expected, "I wish I could tell you that you were wrong, son, but, honestly, I suspected as much when I saw it."

"He won't talk to me about it," Ben complained, "And I don't know why…or what I should do."

"There's not really much you can do," Tom sighed, "I wish I had a better answer for you. I know it's not easy, son, it's not easy for me to think about, but, you know, Jimmy is an adult."

"So, that makes it okay?" Ben cried.

"No," Tom said, firmly, "But it means that you have to leave Jimmy to sort it out however he decides to sort it out. You have to give him time, pestering him for answers won't help anything, and maybe he'll talk to you about it eventually, but if he doesn't, try not to take that too personally. I imagine it's more than a little embarrassing for him. I'm sure he knows you've already figured it out, he knows you're smart, so just give him support, let him know you're there, but that there isn't any pressure."

"I may have already put pressure on him about it," Ben quietly admitted.

Tom smirked, slipping his hand round the back of Ben's neck and giving him a good-natured shake, "Come on, son, let's get home."


	28. Chapter 28

XXVIII.

The next morning was Christmas Eve, and Ben arrived at the hospital fifteen minutes before six. He brought Dr. Glass a coffee.

"You didn't have to do that, sweetie," she told him, leading him upstairs to in-patient rooms.

"You didn't have to help me," he returned.

"I suppose," Dr. Glass said, with a coy smile, accepting the coffee.

Dr. Glass brought Ben into Jimmy's room. It was nice, the bed looked comfortable and the decorations were pleasant, it was also a private room, which surprised Ben for a moment, until he recalled the mansion Jimmy's parents lived in, and realized their insurance, and as an extension of that Jimmy's insurance, was most likely the best money could buy. Jimmy was out cold on the bed. The swelling was gone, as was the tube from his mouth, though he still wore an oxygen mask. IVs were still attached to his arm.

Dr. Glass checked Jimmy's vitals and the chart at the foot of his bed while explaining, "His physician will be in at ten to decide whether or not to release him, but…everything looks good to me. I imagine you'll have him home by noon."

"Thank you," Ben said earnestly.

Dr. Glass left and Ben dragged a chair up beside Jimmy's bed, sitting down. He took Jimmy's hand in his own, folded his arm across the bed, flush with Jimmy's side, and lay his head down atop it, cheek resting against the edge of Jimmy's stomach, and then he drifted to sleep. He woke an hour later at the touch of Jimmy's hand ghosting across the back of his neck. Ben peeled his eyes open and met Jimmy's own bright blue ones. They exchanged a smile.

"Hi," Jimmy greeted, his voice was barely audible and sounded painful.

Ben winced in response. He lifted himself up and gave Jimmy a long and sweet kiss.

"Sorry," Jimmy said, when Ben released his mouth.

Ben shook his head, brushing the hair from Jimmy's forehead then relaxing his hand there, smoothing the skin with his thumb, "It's okay. Don't even worry about it."

Jimmy relaxed, closing his eyes again. Ben sat down again, settling back in the chair.

"Karen feels awful," he told Jimmy, "She wanted to come, but I think Hal talked her out of it."

"It was good," Jimmy croaked, wincing and opening his eyes, shrugging, "Dinner. Tasted good."

"Would you say it was so good it was to die for?" Ben teased.

Jimmy nodded, smiling, and whispering, "Dork."

They sat together talking for the next few hours, it was a lopsided conversation, Jimmy contributing maybe one or a few word responses here and there, until Jimmy's physician came in. It was an older man, well groomed and somewhat pompous. From the way he spoke and Jimmy's familiarity with him, Ben surmised that this was Jimmy's regular physician, probably a private practice doctor called in when Jimmy was admitted to the hospital. It took Ben aback; he didn't know doctors made 'house calls' anymore.

As Dr. Glass predicted, the physician decided to release Jimmy.

On the drive home, Ben finally brought up the inevitable, the Christmas party at Jimmy's parents' house. After the way dinner ended on Wednesday, Ben was fairly certain Jimmy wouldn't be interested in going, and he was confident by Mr. Boland's parting words that they wouldn't be welcome, but he felt he should bring it up anyways. It didn't sit well with Ben, the idea of Jimmy being cut off from his family during the holidays, no matter how awful they seemed.

"We could maybe just stop by, see your sister," Ben suggested.

Jimmy shook his head.

"I know what your dad said was harsh, but I'm sure he didn't really mean it. He was just angry," Ben continued.

"Leave it," Jimmy muttered.

Ben let it drop, easing into a different topic, about his family's plans for the night and Christmas morning. Typically, they left early on Christmas Eve and drove out to Lynn Woods, played in the snow for the day, visited Walden Pond and stargazed at night as Tom and Rebekah took turns reading Christmas stories, including passages from the bible of the Christmas story. Jimmy's emergency trip to the hospital the night before sort of threw a wrench in those plans, but there was still time to head out there. Then they would wake early on Christmas morning to go to the first service at Church, Rebekah would throw something together that could easily be tossed in the oven later for brunch, then they would come home, eat and open presents. Jimmy listened distantly, nodding as Ben spoke.

"I don't want to go to church," Jimmy murmured after Ben was finished explaining the plans.

"You don't have to," Ben replied gently, sweeping Jimmy's hand up and pressing a kiss to it, "My parents will make me though…so you might be alone for a few hours if you stay home…"

"That's fine," Jimmy said, and fell silent again.

When they reached the house, the Mason family met them at the door, smothering Jimmy in greetings and questions about his well-being.

"I'm sorry I ruined your dinner," Jimmy told Karen earnestly.

"I'm sorry I almost killed you," she laughed in return, pulling him into a hug that he awkwardly returned.

Once the excitement of his return died down and the family moved back into the house, discussing arrangements for heading out to Walden Pond, Jimmy disappeared upstairs.

"He alright?" Hal asked Ben, gesturing to the second floor with a jerk of his head, as the rest of the family chattered excitedly around them.

Ben shrugged, furrowing his brow at his brother, determining that Hal was really just wondering if Jimmy might be upset with Karen or even the whole family for what happened, which was fair, the way Jimmy had fallen back into utter silence and slipped away at the soonest opportunity.

"He's just embarrassed is all," Ben answered quietly.

"_He's_ embarrassed? We're the ones that almost killed him," Hal pointed out, incredulous.

"Well, you did make it sound like his fault last night," Ben grumbled.

"Hey…it was a stressful moment; I don't exactly remember all of what I said. Seriously, though, who forgets to mention to people making their food that they're deathly allergic to shellfish?" Hal returned rationally.

"I don't know," Ben muttered, thinking miserably, the same person that 'forgets' to mention his family and friends are all richer than God, 'forgets' to mention that his parents don't know about the relationship he has with his boyfriend until they're on the doorstep, 'forgets' to mention any of the details about the fight he and his father had or that it came to violence.

Upstairs, Jimmy checked his cellphone. He had several missed calls from his mother and a few from his sister, and a number of voicemails to match. He also had a slew of text messages from Ryan, which he shot off a response to, then tossed his phone on the bed. So far the entire trip had been a disaster, and as perfect and sweet as Ben had been about everything, Jimmy wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to take it all and a growing dread in his stomach, his phone buzzing with another call from his mother, made him wonder how much longer he could fend off the inevitable. A knock at the door startled him and he called a harshly rasped, "Come in."

Tom opened the door, peeking into the room at Jimmy. Jimmy brushed the hair from his face and forced a smile.

"Hey, what's up?" he greeted.

"Nothing, just came to check how you were feeling," Tom explained.

"Okay. I'm okay."

"Good, the family is worried," Tom said, with a kind smile, "You up for a drive out to Walden Pond?"

"Yeah. Sure."

Tom nodded. He looked at the ground a moment, as though debating something in his mind, then sighed, shuffled into the room and quietly closed the door behind him.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Tom started, and then wondered, "Would that be alright?"

Jimmy tensed, "Yeah? Okay. What is it?"

Tom gestured to the side of Jimmy's face, where the bruising was still evident from his chat with his father. Absently, Jimmy brought his hand up to trace it, looking quizzical at Tom.

"I fell," he explained, "On my walk."

"I see," Tom murmured, "Ben was thinking it might've been something more serious."

"I told him that I fell," Jimmy replied insistently.

"Right," Tom said, nodding, "Right. He's probably just worrying. Ben can be a bit of a worrier, he gets that from his mother. They all get it from their mother. They have to constantly check in on everyone, make sure everyone is alright. They…uh…heh…they act like it's their responsibility to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Ben told me that…uh…that you got in a fight with your father the other night."

Jimmy frowned, stiffly nodded.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tom told him earnestly, "Parents…they always want what is best for their children."

Jimmy snorted softly.

"Even if it's not always clear to them what's 'best'," Tom finished sharply, "Rebekah and I always wanted our children to know that no matter who they were or what they did in their lives, that they could always come home and that they were always loved. I won't pretend we haven't made mistakes, we've made plenty of mistakes with our boys, and we haven't always been right, but it was important to us that, no matter what, they knew they were always welcome here. I wanted to let you know that you're always welcome here, too."

"That's nice of you," Jimmy noted, "Thank you."

"Sure," Tom returned, "It's not a problem. I mean, you're important to my son."

"For now," Jimmy absently remarked.

Tom faltered, furrowing his brow, "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Jimmy hastily caught himself, shrugging and fiercely shaking his head, "It doesn't mean anything. Sorry…I mean, thank you, Mr. Mason. Um…when did you want to leave for the pond thing?"

"Probably soon," Tom answered distantly, "I'm going to go downstairs to muster the family…uh…dress warm, alright?"

"Okay," Jimmy whispered, watching Tom leave the room, then slumping on the bed and picking up his phone. Three more missed calls from his mother, three more new voicemails, and a response from Ryan. He checked the text, then tossed his phone across the room and fell back on his bed, glaring at the ceiling, and scoffing, "Merry fucking Christmas."


	29. Chapter 29

XXIX.

When Ben came up to tell Jimmy they were ready to leave, Jimmy was obviously not dressed for the outdoor excursion. He sat on the bed with his phone clutched in his hand, pushing buttons on it, studying its LCD screen, brow furrowed.

"Hey, babe, what's going on? You're not wearing that to the woods, are you? You'll catch another cold," Ben said, crossing the room and dropping a kiss atop Jimmy's head.

"I don't know if I'm gonna go," Jimmy mumbled, pressing his phone with its front down against his stomach when Ben came near.

It was almost as though he was hiding the screen, Ben noted vaguely, with an awning of pain across his chest. Jimmy sighed and smiled apologetically up at Ben.

"I'm still feeling a little…um…a little weird from the shellfish," he tentatively explained, "I don't know if I should…"

"Oh, okay. That makes sense, you just got released from the hospital…well, I'll go let my parents know that we won't be coming," Ben told him, starting for the door.

"No, Ben, you should go," Jimmy protested, setting his phone aside and straightening on the bed, "It's your family. It's a tradition thing, right? Go be with them."

"It's Christmas Eve, I'm not leaving you alone on Christmas Eve," Ben replied.

"I'll be fine," Jimmy insisted, "I'll sleep, get some rest, you know. I didn't really sleep at the hospital and with the cold and everything else that's happened…but I won't sleep if you're here. And you'll be back later tonight…right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ben murmured, uncertainly.

"And, you know, this way, you can spend time with your brothers," Jimmy pressed, adding quietly, "And not have to worry about me."

"I like worrying about you," Ben grinned, crossing the room to give Jimmy a kiss. He carefully pushed the hair from Jimmy's face and wondered, "You'll really be okay by yourself?"

"Yes. I swear. I'll be fine, babe," Jimmy told him, standing. A strange expression crossed his features a moment and he suddenly wrapped an arm round Ben's waist, slipping his hand behind Ben's neck to draw the other boy into a deep, heated kiss, parting their lips to slip his tongue in and delicately touch on every contour of Ben's mouth. When they parted, Ben touched their foreheads together and smiled breathless.

"You sure you don't want me to stay?" he asked demurely, "I mean, with my family gone it won't matter how paper thin my bedroom walls are…"

"Yeah, go," Jimmy murmured, pecking him on the lips and saying, "My stomach is a little queasy still so…"

"Oh," Ben frowned, kissing Jimmy several times in succession, sighing, "Fine. I'll go."

"Ben," Jimmy whispered, his brow crinkled and his eyes softened, "I really love you."

"I love you too," Ben told him, concern evident in his tone, "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Jimmy insisted, drawing his arms around himself and shrugging, "Fine."

"Okay, baby, if you're sure," Ben murmured, brow severely furrowed, "I'll see you tonight."

"I am. Good bye, Ben," Jimmy whispered.

Reluctantly, Ben parted, leaving the room and heading downstairs to let his family know Jimmy would be staying behind. There were groans and questions, and Rebekah offered to go up and try talking to him, but Ben belayed that suggestion, and eventually, the Mason clan shuffled out the door and Jimmy was left alone. He watched out the window, the family loading into the car and driving off, sighing.

An hour later, Ryan opened the door to his loft, ushered Jimmy inside. Without anyone else there, somehow the loft felt larger, colder, lonelier. There was already a haze of smoke in the air, a retired bong sat on the coffee table, and a few beer bottles were scattered around it, a lit cigarette rest on Ryan's lip. They exchanged a fist bump in greeting, and Jimmy removed his coat, tossing it over the back of the couch, as Ryan went to finish rolling a joint he'd started. Jimmy crossed into the bar to retrieve a beer of his own.

"So…you went to the hospital last night?" Ryan started, brow crinkling in concern. He licked the paper and fastened the joint closed, replacing his cigarette with it and plucking a zippo lighter of the coffee table, lit it. Jimmy came to sit on the couch nearby, taking a long draught of his beer, then accepting the joint from Ryan and taking a couple a hits.

"His sister-in-law made this crab and oyster thing for dinner," Jimmy explained, blowing out a smoke ring, and sinking back against the couch.

"Shit, double the poison," Ryan commented, shaking his head at Jimmy, "You're lucky to be alive. Why didn't Ben tell his family about your allergy? Kind of seems like something that should've been on the itinerary he sent them when he planned the whole fucking thing. He sent an itinerary, right? He seems like an itinerary type of person."

"He didn't know."

"What? Why didn't he know?" Ryan demanded.

"I don't know. I didn't tell him," Jimmy muttered, taking another hit from the joint and passing it back to Ryan, gulping his beer down, belched, and shrugged, "I guess I forgot that I didn't tell him."

Ryan gaped at Jimmy for a minute, the joint pinched between his finger and thumb, his cigarette dangling off the corner of his lip. Then he burst out laughing, removing the cigarette and taking a puff of the joint.

"Let me get this straight, you forgot that _you forgot_ to tell your boyfriend you were allergic to shellfish. You dumbass," he jeered.

"I guess," Jimmy mumbled, picking at the label on his bottle of beer.

"Right. Well," Ryan sighed, holding the joint out to Jimmy.

Jimmy considered it a moment, took it, hit it, let the smoke out smooth and slow.

"Tell me about your fight with Sargent Pepper and the Lonely Heartstring," Ryan prompted, "You were pretty cryptic on the phone…which reminds me, non sequiturs like 'put a gun to my head', not funny, actually, especially if you don't follow up with something along the lines of 'metaphorically speaking'. Though, it does look like your dad got you good this time…shit, man, he hasn't smacked you around since you turned sixteen and popped him back that one time. I mean, even if he did still beat the shit out of you, at least he laid off…for a while anyway."

"Ben wants me to talk to him about it," Jimmy quietly mused.

"Okay," Ryan grumbled, leaning back in the couch, and muttering, "I guess Ben gets to be the Lonely Heartstring."

"I can't talk to him," Jimmy murmured, his focus entirely on the bottle in his hand, "His life is so perfect. His family is just perfect. His parents are…perfect. He wouldn't understand. I couldn't explain it to him, he couldn't even grasp the basis. I mean, the idea of parents…not caring about their child…hating their kid, it just…he couldn't even begin to understand it. You should've seen him there, man, he was just so out of his element."

Jimmy leaned forward on his knee, shook his head furiously, and rubbed a hand across his face. He took another hit off the joint and passed it back to Ryan.

"His friends hate me," Jimmy went on, "They told his ex-boyfriend that I wasn't right for him. This douchebag shows up and goes off on this whole spiel about how he's still in love with Ben, how they belong together, and I'm just some rebound mistake, then kisses him right in front of me."

"Fuck. Did you kick his ass?" Ryan wondered.

"I wanted to," Jimmy said, "Ben wouldn't let me. He made me go upstairs. I don't know what he said to the guy. I don't even care. I mean…it shouldn't matter what Ben said, he sent the guy away, right? But all I can think is…is what if that guy was right? And then I think about it, and I know he's right."

Ryan perked a brow at him, quietly sipped his beer.

"I could never make Ben understand where I come from. Half the shit I do, he scratches his head at…he doesn't know what to do with it, and it all makes perfect sense to me. I mean, I got drunk and wanted to screw around at my parents', and he pushes me off, tells me I'm not in my right mind," Jimmy complained, "What the fuck is that, right?"

"Right," Ryan agreed, "Nothing kills parental stress like a little booze and sex. Everyone knows that."

"Exactly," Jimmy exclaimed, "But he doesn't understand that…he couldn't understand that. And his family, shit, I don't know how to be around them. His mother is so nice. She sucks at cooking, and they all tell her that she sucks at cooking, and she just laughs it off. And his dad…he _talks_ to his dad. He told his dad I got in a fight with my dad at the house, and then get this, his dad comes and talks to me about it. Who the fuck does that?"

"Shit, if I told my parents you got in a fight with your dad, they wouldn't even know who I was talking about," Ryan joked.

"And then his dad tells me that…that I'm always welcome there. I haven't done a single thing that would make me welcome there," Jimmy said, shaking his head, and taking a drink of his beer, sitting back in the couch and rolling his head back to glare at the ceiling, "It's almost like we're from completely different worlds. And sooner or later he'll figure that out," Jimmy winced, tears flooding his eyes, threatening to spill, "And he'll leave me and go back to Cole or find some other douchebag that's 'right' for him, someone that makes sense to him, deserves him."

"Maybe," Ryan sighed.

They fell silent a moment. Ryan took a few hits off the joint, passed it back to Jimmy. They drank their beer.

Then Ryan peered at Jimmy with a solemn, grim expression and asked, "Why are you here, James?"


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: I anticipate most of these chapters have a ridiculous number of typos and WTF's going on. I swear, I will proof it in the morning. I didn't realize it would take me all day to finish this story...UGH! See what happens when I'm motivated though? Fingers crossed I finished Fire Light by the end of January! Woosh!

* * *

XXX.

Ryan's question hung heavy in the air a moment, lulling in the mingling smoke of both the joint and cigarette.

"I don't know. What do you mean?" Jimmy finally asked.

"Just that…you got this perfect boyfriend that loves you and his family has welcomed you with open arms, they want you to spend their Christmas with them because your dad is the world's biggest tool, and you're sitting on my couch smoking a joint. Why the fuck are you here, man?" Ryan pressed.

Jimmy shrugged.

"You want to know what happened with Paul?" Ryan said suddenly.

"I guess. Sure," Jimmy murmured, finishing his beer and setting it on the table.

"Reason Lenny is telling everyone is because he found someone with a bigger trust fund," Ryan started, Jimmy glanced at him, obviously offended for his friend, but he shrugged, "And that's true, he did, and I won't lie, he really was only in it for the money. I guess I didn't know it at first, though, or I did, I just didn't want to admit it. Lenny kept telling me but…I didn't think twice when Paul asked to go to expensive restaurants on my dime, or weekend trips, whatever. I figured I had the money, and someone to spend it with, what else did I need? I guess I didn't take it seriously. There wasn't any threat of my bank account drying up anytime soon, so I guess I felt like it was secure, me and him.

"So, one day, we're in the middle of sex, and you call. I always answer when you call. I don't even think about it, I just…I put him on hold, took the call outside the room," Ryan continued, and Jimmy lowered his gaze, Ben's observations about Ryan's crush flitting across his mind, "I get back and he throws a fit. He acts like I called out your name in bed or something. I'm telling him it's no big deal, but he's getting real worked up over it, and then he grabs the ashtry, that big heavy one I keep by my bed and smacks me with it. Blood everywhere, a couple inches higher, a little harder, and he could've killed me. He immediately starts begging forgiveness and I kick him out, fuck him. He's banging on my door, trying to get me to open so we can talk, work it out, so I called Lenny and Gary and Kev, and they come over…Lenny brings a gun, the dumbshit, but Paul just takes off as soon as he sees them coming. I had to get three stitches, he almost blinded me."

"Jesus Christ, Ryan," Jimmy gaped.

"I'm fine. He kept sending me flowers and stuff, until he met the other guy and went to Brazil or Greece or something, I don't," Ryan concluded, then mused, "You're not gonna ask why I always answer when you call?"

Jimmy shrugged, shifting awkwardly and sipping his beer again.

"Right," Ryan smirked darkly at the joint, took a last hit and ground it out, "Want to know why I think you're here? I think you're here because you don't want to wait until Ben figures it out, that you two aren't 'right' together. Waiting's the hard part anyways. It's like Russian roulette, days, weeks, months that flick by are like every time the drum drops. Every word he says is like pulling the trigger, and waiting for the bullet to hit. So you just want to rig the game, a bullet in every chamber. You're here to fuck up. Get drunk, get high, and then 'oops, sorry, baby, but this is just who I am'. Bulls eye, a self-fulfilling prophesy."

"Ryan…"

"Fuck you, man," Ryan spat, "You know how badly I would kill for a Ben?" He snorted, scoffed, "You know how badly I wanted to be your Ben?"

"I'm sorry," Jimmy mumbled, swiping away a stray tear, "I just…"

"Are the world's biggest dumbass?" Ryan seethed, "You know it kills me. I wanted so desperately to believe that something like that existed, fairy tale romances, real love, shit like that, and I didn't really think it did. But then I sit here all night, watching him watch you, and seeing how you look at him and you know…fuck you. I'm not going to help you break his heart, and I'm not going to help you break your own, I care about you too much, fucking God knows why."

"I don't know what to do," Jimmy whispered.

"Of course you don't, because you're an idiot," Ryan muttered, "What you do is you call him, you tell him you want him to come home, and you take him to bed, and you tell him you love him and you do that every night for the rest of your fucking life. Look at me," Jimmy lifted his eyes up to lock with Ryan's own soft and earnest gray, "You do deserve him, you know, you just got to start acting like it."

Jimmy lowered his eyes again, rubbing his face dry. His phone went off, breaking the melancholy mood, and he scowled, digging it from his pocket.

"Probably my mom again…" he muttered, checking the screen, his brow furrowed at the name and answered, "Hey, what's up?"

"Jimmy," Cass's voice trembled through the line. She was crying, he could tell, "Mom and dad are saying if you don't come home right now that they're going to kick you out…that…that…that's it, that you're gone and you…you won't ever be allowed home and…and…Jimmy, you have to come home, please, please, come home, you can't leave me alone with them. I'll kill myself if you leave me alone with them, please."

Jimmy glanced at Ryan, the other boy's expression worried and questioning, then drew his breath in unsteadily and whispered, "Okay. Tell them I'm on my way," he tucked his phone into his pocket and sighed, "It's my sister. I have to go."

"Yeah, right. Go ahead," Ryan told him gently.

"You gonna be okay for Christmas?" Jimmy wondered.

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Lenny's mom asked me over for dinner tonight, and then I'll probably head over to Gary's tomorrow, his mom's got this thing out of town and he's depressed about it," Ryan shrugged, "Take care okay."

"I will…uh…hey, I put your present on the counter and there's stuff for the guys too," Jimmy said, starting for the door, he paused and looked back at Ryan a moment. The other boy had stood from the couch, hands in his pockets. His blond hair fell loose about his hard-lined face. He deserved better, too, Jimmy knew, as he said a steady, "Thank you."

"No problem," Ryan grinned, "Go save your sister, and then go be with your boyfriend, huh?"


	31. Chapter 31

XXXI.

Although Jimmy had mentioned part of staying behind would be so Ben didn't have to worry about him, Ben still spent the entire trip out at Walden Pond worrying. He was anxious to get home, and his parents decided to call the trip short, and they got back around seven. The house was empty.

"He didn't say anything about going out?" Tom wondered.

"He said he was just gonna sleep," Ben mumbled, sitting on the couch and calling Jimmy's cell phone for what would be the fifth time since they got home. He hung up when voice mail picked up again and slammed his phone on the coffee table, "Shit."

"Maybe he woke up, wasn't sure how much longer we'd be, and went to get dinner or something," Hal suggested.

"Maybe," Ben murmured.

"Or maybe he went to see his family or friends or something," Matt spoke up, sitting on the chair and nibbling a cookie, "I mean, I bet he didn't want to spend his entire week here with us. Especially not after _someone_ tried to kill him…"

"Shut up, Matt," various members of the family grumbled, as Karen sighed and buried her face embarrassedly in her hand.

"I'm sure he'll be home soon," Rebekah said, giving Ben's shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

"Probably," Ben sighed.

But minutes turned into hours, and eventually, one-by-one everyone started to turn in for bed, leaving Ben sitting alone on the couch, speed-dialing Jimmy's number anxiously. Voice mail again. He sighed, leaned forward on his knees and glared at the clock. It was well past midnight now.

"Ben, son, are you still awake?" Tom called out through the silence of the house, his voice low. He entered the family room, tightening his robe around himself, his features concerned, "Jimmy still not back?"

"No," Ben answered bitterly, fidgeting with his phone, "He won't answer my calls either. I've left him like fifty voice messages."

"Is it like him to disappear like this? Not leave a note, tell you where he's going or anything?" Tom wondered, taking a seat on the couch next to Ben, studying his son carefully.

Ben frowned. He thought of the 'trip to Mexico' with Ryan a few months back that he'd only recently found about it.

"I don't know, dad," Ben muttered, setting his phone on the table. He sighed and leaned back, rubbing his face wearily, "I knew I shouldn't have left him here alone. He was acting weird and…"

"Weird how?" Tom questioned.

"I don't know, hiding his phone, changing his mind about going out to the lake, he doesn't usually back out of something he says he's going to do," Ben explained.

"Hiding his phone? Why would he be hiding his phone?" Tom pressed.

"I don't know," Ben grumbled, "Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I just thought he was."

"Maybe," Tom murmured, "There someone you wouldn't want him to be talking to?"

"No," Ben said, then furrowed his brow, shook his head and repeated uncertainly, "No, I don't think so."

"I see," Tom said. He shifted slightly and frowned, "I wasn't sure I should say anything but…but now I'm starting to worry, son. He said something to me earlier, I didn't think much of it, but it's been bothering me a little. And now he's disappeared, it's really…really bothering me now."

"What did he say?"

"I can't be exactly sure what he meant. He said he meant nothing by it and maybe he did mean nothing, but now it's a little suspicious," Tom started, and said quickly, "I don't want you to panic either."

"Just tell me, dad," Ben groaned.

"Right…well, I made a comment, something about him being important to you and…he…uh…he said 'for now'. Almost as if…he meant to say, he wouldn't be important to you later, as if he thought something was going to happen to change that and I thought it was an odd thing to say, but now…"

Ben's eyes widened momentarily, then he squeezed them shut and groaned, "Why won't he answer his fucking phone?"

"I don't know, son," Tom whispered, putting an arm around Ben's shoulders and repeating, "I don't know."

"I don't understand," Ben cried, "Everything was fine when I picked him up at the hospital. What could've possibly happened from there to here?"

"Probably nothing," Tom said, "Maybe…maybe it's like Matt said, he went to see friends or…maybe his family. Maybe he decided to go to the party after all and he didn't want to bother you with it."

"He wouldn't have, dad, not after the way we left on Wednesday," Ben argued, then slumped and made a face, "Maybe he did go see his friends though."

"You don't have any of their numbers; you can't call any of them?" Tom pressed.

"No, I didn't…no, wait," Ben frowned, straightening and grabbing his phone, scrolling through his contacts, "His one friend Gary insisted we exchange numbers. I just took it to be polite, I didn't plan on ever calling him, I mean he was nice…probably the nicest of Jimmy's friends, but he was weird too, you know."

Ben found the number and hit call, holding the phone to his ear as it rung.

"Please pick up," Ben mumbled, "Please pick up…"

_Click_.

"I told you to never call this fucking number" a voice slurred angrily and Ben flinched, frowning at the phone – did he have the right number, uncertain if he should say something or hang up, then laughter broke out on the other end and Gary's familiar candor said, "I'm just shitting you, man, what's up?"

"Gary…? Uh…this is Ben…Ben Mason. Jimmy's boyfriend, we met the other night," Ben tentatively said.

"I know who you are, man, your fucking name pops up when the phone rings," Gary laughed, "Jeez, and people think I'm stupid. What do you need, man?"

"I was just wondering if you…uh…you knew where Jimmy might be or how to get ahold of him?"

"Me? Fuck no. I haven't seen Jimmy since Ryan's place the other night," Gary said, "Why? What's going on? Shouldn't he be with you? I thought you two were all like…in lurve…or whatever…and you got him all domesticated and shit."

"Yeah, um…he…uh…he isn't here right now, and I don't know where he went and…uh…it's late and I'm worried," Ben awkwardly explained.

"Oh well. I don't know where he's at. You could try Ryan. Ryan usually knows where everyone's at. Did you try Ryan?"

"No. I don't have Ryan's number. Could you maybe get me Ryan's number or…?"

"Oh no, man, I don't have to do that. Hold on a sec," Gary said, then bellowed, "Hey, Ryan, get over here…Ben's on the phone, wants to talk to you."

A brief pause, muffled sounds in the background. Ben gave his father a sheepish look. He had the vague sense that he was being screwed around with at that moment.

"Ben, yeah, _that_ Ben. Hey, fuck if I know. Just get over here shithead."

There was a shuffling noise as the phone swapped hands and then Ryan's voice came through the phone, "Hey, yo, what's up?"

"Hi…uh…" Ben stammered, a rush of heat flooding his head. He wasn't sure at that moment how he would take it if it turned out Jimmy had been with Ryan this whole time, "I was just wondering if you…uh…knew where Jimmy was," then sighed and growled, "He's not with you guys is he?"

"Isn't he with you?"

"Could you please…I just really don't feel like being fucked around with right now," Ben cried, "I just want to know where my boyfriend is, he's been gone for hours, I can't get a hold of him and I'm really worried…"

"Hey, Ben, man, do me a favor? Chill," Ryan commanded in a soft, cool voice, "Breathe with me for a sec."

Ben faltered, took a deep breath, and glanced at his father. The older man looked concerned, his arm still draped round Ben.

"No one is fucking with you. Alright? I'm going to be straight with you. So keep a cool head, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, listen, I saw James several hours ago," Ryan admitted.

Ben grimaced but remained silent.

"He came over to my place, hung out for a short stint, only long enough for one beer. We talked, a little bit about his parents, but mostly about you. Nothing big, I promise, just minor relationship advice. Then Cass called and he left."

"And you don't know where he went?" Ben questioned meekly.

"I'm guessing he went to his parents. He had his going to battle face on, so…" Ryan answered easily.

Ben took another deep breath. He cleared his throat and around a lump the size of a softball asked, "What happened with his dad?"

He could hear Ryan smirk on the other end of the line.

"Nothing that doesn't happen every time those two are in the same room long enough for words to be said," Ryan replied. He sighed, "If James is over at his parents' house, trust me, that's not something you want to step in. Most likely, they called him over to make an appearance. The party is a big deal for his dad, all of the big wigs in his dad's network come with their families and it becomes a Best in Show type of deal; whose family is the richest, best, most accomplished, whitest teeth, brightest smile. It would be the ultimate humiliation for James' dad to be down one kid for the big contest, you know?"

"No…are you saying Jimmy's parents had his little sister call him to the party so that they could show him off like a dog?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying."

"I'm going over there," Ben decided, looking to his dad, "Dad, can you drive me…?"

"No, you're not," Ryan said sharply, "You do that and all you're going to cause is one serious shit storm."

"I'm grateful for the information and all, but who the fuck are you to tell me what I can't do? I'm not leaving him there alone like that," Ben snapped.

"You go in there and disrupt that party you will only make things worse between him and his parents, and you take him out of there, you save him from them maybe for five seconds and, on top of that, you leave behind his sister to fend for herself against the sharks. Trust me, when the smoke is cleared you'll see that you've won the battle, but you will sure as fuck lose the war," Ryan said matter-of-factly, "Think about it, he says your smart, so think for a minute. You bring him into your home, ask him to adjust to your family, and he did. Well it works both ways; you need to figure out a way to adjust to his family if you want to be with him."

Ben scowled, simmering in a silent rage.

"But I guess I'm not anybody to tell you what the fuck to do so, whatever, do whatever the fuck you want."

_Click._


	32. Chapter 32

XXXII.

On Christmas morning, Jimmy awoke cold, alone and seriously hung over, wrapped in satin sheets and layers of Egyptian cotton comforters, in his bedroom at his parents. He winced against the bright sunlight streaming through his window and recalled what he could of the night, but all that stood out in his mind was the minute he walked through the front door being immediately greeted by his mother.

"I've spoken to your father about the incident on Monday," she had told him sternly, "I'm incredibly disappointed in you. Your grades were terrible this past semester, your father's request was not entirely unreasonable, but your behavior was unacceptable."

Jimmy climbed out of the bed. He was still wearing his clothes from the night before, his shirt was rumbled, his hair a mess. He stumbled into his bathroom, fell to his knees on the floor in front of the toilet and threw up.

"We have reached a decision," his mother had went on to say, "Now we realize that it is the trendy thing to do amongst the current youth population to experiment with a homosexual lifestyle and we feel that this boy was a very polite young man, he's done nothing to deserve maltreatment of any sort."

Jimmy rinsed his mouth out with water and then fumbled in the medicine cabinet for the bottle of ibuprofen. He popped a few of the pills and shoved it back in the cabinet. He splashed some water on his face.

"We're giving him six months to find new accommodations and for you to say your goodbyes. We don't want your grades to suffer anymore because of your being heartbroken over some college fling. The lease on the apartment will be up by then. Afterwards, you will move into the dormitory at school without a roommate and focus on your schoolwork," his mother had finished.

Jimmy glared at his damp reflection in the mirror. His eyes were rimmed with dark bags, his features sallow. He felt bile rising again to the back of his throat.

"And if I choose not to do _any_ of this?" Jimmy had challenged. His mother had smiled tersely, placed a palm delicately against his cheek and pressed a cool kiss to his other cheek.

"I love you, sweetheart," she had told him, then met his eyes, her gaze like ice, and said, "This isn't a choice."

Jimmy trudged from the bathroom back into his bedroom and flopped belly down on the bed again. He grabbed his pillow and hugged it under his head. He could hear his phone going off, he'd left it in the bedroom after the first call, he couldn't see Ben's name on the screen, or the growing numbers of missed calls he had from the other boy, not during the party, it was too hard. He heard a noise at his bedroom door and turned, eyed Cass as she slipped in, shut the door behind her and scurried to his bed, sitting down beside him.

"What do you want?" he muttered.

"Mom and dad are leaving, they have brunch with the Marcels, and then they have the Yule Ball to go to tonight," Cass said quietly. She set a small wrapped package on the bed in front of Jimmy, ruffling his hair, and whispering, "Merry Christmas."

"Thanks," Jimmy mumbled, "Yours is in the drawer over there."

He pointed across the room, but Cass made no move to retrieve the mentioned gift. She heard the cell phone ringing and dug through the mess of blankets to find it. She looked at the name on the screen and sighed sympathetically at her brother.

"It's Ben," she told him, though he already knew, "You have to talk to him eventually, you know."

"No, I don't," Jimmy groaned, "I'm just going to disappear from his life completely and he'll forget about me and move on."

"Or he'll hire a private investigator, and then he'll hire a hit man," Cass returned.

Jimmy rolled his eyes, sighed, and, lifting himself slightly, held his hand out.

"Give it," he grunted. She handed the phone over. He stared at the name a long time, until the ringing stopped and the missed call message popped up, there were twenty-seven missed calls, all from Ben. He pulled himself up from bed and hit redial, his sister watching him as he wandered away several steps, the phone held tentatively at his ear.

"Jimmy?" Ben's frantic voice answered on the second ring, "Jimmy? Oh my God, baby, are you okay? Where are you? What's going on?"

Jimmy smiled faintly; taking a moment to recover from the swell of emotion at hearing Ben's concerned voice, as if he really deserved that kind of concern.

"Hey," he murmured, clearing his throat, "Hi. I'm fine. I'm at my parents'."

"What are you doing there? Why didn't you pick up your phone? I've been freaking out all fucking night," Ben cried.

"I know. I'm sorry," Jimmy mumbled, blinking away a tear, lying, "I forgot my phone in my coat and…and I had some drinks and I couldn't drive home. So I passed out here. I'm sorry…babe….I'm really sorry."

"He's at his parents…" Ben mumbled to someone in the background, most likely one of his parents, "…no…I'm trying to figure that out right now."

Jimmy glanced at Cass. She was curling her fingers in his blankets.

"Are you going to be coming home soon or…?" Ben asked.

Jimmy winced, "Uh…I don't know…"

"Are you going to spend Christmas with your parents then? I mean, I know we had agreed to do it here but…but I guess if you want to be with your parents," Ben stammered.

"No, my parents aren't here," Jimmy told him.

"They aren't? Then what are you doing there, babe? Come home."

"It's just that my little sister is alone here, and our parents went out for the day, they probably won't be back until the morning," Jimmy said, furrowing his brow as Ben relayed what he said in a low mutter to someone in the background. There was a strange shuffling noise as Ben's phone changed hands.

"Jimmy, hon? It's Ben's mom. Your parents left you and your sister there alone? On Christmas?"

"Uh…yeah," Jimmy murmured awkwardly, glancing at his sister, "But it's fine, Mrs. Mason, it's kind of a tradition. They do this every year and me and my sister just spend Christmas together."

"Oh, well then, honey, why don't you bring her over?" Rebekah suggested.

"I don't know, Mrs. Mason, I don't really want to burden your family anymore…" Jimmy started.

"No, hon, it's no burden at all. You two should not be alone on Christmas, please…oh, shush, Ben…listen, Jimmy, hon, just ask your sister if she wants to come over. If she doesn't, then I understand, but I know Ben will be miserable if you're not here today," Rebekah said.

"Okay. I'll ask her," Jimmy sighed, covering the phone and looking at his sister, "Do you want to go over to the Masons' today?"

Cass immediately perked, a broad grin broke across her face, "Can I?"

Jimmy frowned, lifted the phone again, "We'll be over in about an hour."

"Oh, wonderful! We'll see you two then."

"Okay. Thank you. Bye, Mrs. Mason."

Jimmy hung up the phone and looked long and hard at his sister. She smiled brightly at him.

"I hate you. All you had to do was say 'no'," he informed her steadily.

"But I really want to meet Ben's family," Cass whined. Jimmy sighed, making an attempt at straightening his clothes out.

"Listen very carefully to me, these are nice people," Jimmy seethed, "You will not lie to them. You will not tell them stories about crazy ax murdering uncles, or how our parents are Russian spies, or – and do not make me repeat this at any point tonight – you will not tell them that I was a child soldier. You will not manipulate them for anything and you will not toy with them for your amusement. You will be nice to them, you hear me?"

"Ugh, you're no fun," Cass complained.

"_Cassidy_," Jimmy said sharply, "I'm serious." He smoothed his hair out best he could, brushed it from out of his face and said in a deathly tone, "And under no circumstances are you to tell Ben anything about our parents' six months decision? You understand."

"You have to tell him about it eventually," Cass pointed out.

"I'm not fucking telling him on Christmas."

"But it's not like you're going through with it, are you?" Cass said.

Jimmy didn't answer, stalking towards the door and ushering Cass from the room.

"But Jimmy…" Cass cried, "You aren't, are you?"


	33. Chapter 33

XXXIII.

When Jimmy arrived at the Masons, Rebekah and Ben greeted him and his sister, latched onto his hand and hiding behind him, at the door. Ben immediately crushed him in a hug. Then he pulled back and demanded, "What the hell, Jimmy? You really couldn't leave a note or something?"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Jimmy murmured, dropping his gaze, and tugging Cass forward, "Mrs. Mason, this is my sister, Cassidy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Cass daintily announced, fluttering her hand outward at Rebekah.

"Oh my, aren't you adorable," Rebekah commented, gently shaking the hand and then drawing Cass forward, putting an arm around her shoulders and guiding her into the family room declared, "Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the family. Let the boys talk alone for a minute."

As soon as Rebekah and Cass left, Jimmy put his coat in the closet and started up the staircase. Ben watched his sudden retreat, momentarily stunned, and then followed after. They went into the bedroom and Ben quietly shut the door.

"What happened to resting while my family went to the lake?" Ben demanded.

Jimmy shrugged, sorting through his things in the room.

"Or was that just a lie so you could go over to Ryan's?"

Jimmy faltered, frowning at the ground.

"No," he mumbled, it sounded false even to his ears.

"Goddammit, Jimmy, I'm not forbidding you from talking to your friend," Ben seethed, "You don't have to lie to me. If you wanted to go hang out with your friend, you should've told me."

"Could we just…could we talk about this later?" Jimmy murmured.

"No," Ben snapped, "Because 'later' for you is code for 'never', and we need to talk about this. Jimmy, I didn't sleep last night. At first it was because I didn't know where you were but then it was because I talked to your friends and found out."

"Ben," Jimmy pleaded, "Can we please not do this right now? Please, can you just go downstairs and…and I'll be there in a minute and we'll…we'll spend Christmas with your family? Please?"

"No, because I want to get this cleared up before we go down there," Ben said, "Because we're not gonna go down there and slap on happy faces and pretend everything is fine like your family does."

Jimmy's breath caught, his heart slammed into his chest, his eyes flashed white. He turned to face Ben.

"Fine," he spat, "I lied to you about not wanting to go to the pond, so that I could go spend the day with my friend. Why did I lie about it? Because I couldn't stand being around your family being perfect and happy and wonderful for another fucking day without wanting to blow my fucking brains out. That's why."

"Jimmy," Ben seethed.

"No, screw you. You spend a dinner with my family and you think you've got us figured out? That you know exactly how fucked up we are and why?" Jimmy challenged, "You want to know why I don't tell you about my family, why I can't talk to you about it? Well there's your reason."

"What, that's why? Because my family is 'perfect'?" Ben bit out, "Because my life is so 'perfect' that I could never understand your family and your life? Hey, screw _you_. You spend a few days with my family and suddenly you've got us all figured out? My life is not perfect, and my family has its problems. The only reason I can't understand is because you won't give me the chance. But I get it, Jimmy, I do. Poor little rich boy, right? Your parents leave you alone in a big cold _mansion_ all the fucking time…"

"Fuck you," Jimmy whispered.

"Maybe the only reason you don't talk about it is because when you say it aloud you realize it isn't actually a problem," Ben griped. Immediately his mouth clamped shut on his words, he ran his hand anxiously over the back of his head, his expression horrified, "Jimmy, I didn't mean that."

"Right," Jimmy lowered his eyes, wiped away a tear, sniffling. In a calm mechanical tone, he told Ben, "My parents have decided that my falling in love with you is detrimental to the future they have planned for me. My finding romance is ahead of their schedule, and they're not entirely sure how our both being male is going to affect my career opportunities, they'll get back to me on whether being gay is a viable option for me, in the meantime I am to return my focus on my schoolwork. Regardless, they've decided you're not good enough for me. They don't feel that you're at fault for your failings, and don't want to kick you out on the streets, and they'd also like to give us time to come to terms with the end of our relationship. You have six months to move out."

"What?" Ben gaped, searching for his breath.

Jimmy shrugged, smirked darkly up at Ben through his own tears and bitterly inquired, "That's not a problem, is it?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Ben whispered, "That's what your parents said?"

"Yes," Jimmy murmured, dropping his eyes to the ground, grinding away the falling tears.

"And what did you tell them?" Ben asked. It was getting harder to find air, harder to get the words out.

"What am I supposed to tell them?"

"You're just going to go along with it then?" Ben whispered.

"What choice do I have?" Jimmy replied, "It's my family…"

"Right," Ben said, glancing away, and squeezing his eyes shut, a few tears rushing down his cheeks, "No, you're right. You don't have a choice. Uh…your…uh…your present is on the dresser there. Um…and I won't need the six months. I'll move out when we get back."

Ben spun away, hurrying from the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

Jimmy collapsed to the bed, burying his face in his hands. After several minutes, he stirred, used his collar to wipe his tears dry. Unsteadily he rose to his feet and picked up the present Ben had pointed out. It was small, wrapped in red and gold, and tied off with a bow. He traced its paper, crinkling under the pressure of his thumb. He set the package aside and dug his phone from his pocket, pressed one of the numbers on his speed dial and waited until someone picked up on the other end.

"Hey," he said, his voice harsh and rasped, "No, I'm fine, I just…listen, I need a favor."

* * *

.

.

.

A/N: Oi, I started using 'gonna' a lot in these later chapters as my brain got foggier and foggier and now I'm reading back through these with a clearer head going 'why did you do that...that doesn't sound like him at all!'...

Dead brains aren't good. Zombies agree, they prefer live.


	34. Chapter 34

XXXIV.

Ben stormed downstairs and through the house, questioning looks following him as he rushed into the backyard. Vaguely he noted Cass and Matt playing the video game on the couch, Hal and Karen coddling their son, his own parents in the dining room talking over the table, none of it really registered, just faces blurring by. The cold air immediately attacked his bare arms and tear streaked face, and he reveled in the harsh, raw pain. He sat down on the porch swing creaking on the back patio and leaned forward on his knees, cradling his head.

He wasn't sure how long he sat out there, it was several minutes, maybe ten or twenty, before his father came to check on him, throwing a coat on top of him, and plopping beside him on the swing.

"Everything okay, son?" Tom asked.

Ben didn't answer, slipping his arms into the coat sleeves, though any kind of movement was painful. He leaned forward again, massaged warmth into his hands.

"You and Jimmy have a fight?" Tom persisted.

"Yes," Ben whispered. He waited for the dull ache in his heart, but it seemed his heart had moved beyond pain. He couldn't feel it, he just knew it was there, somewhere in the back of his mind aware that it was shattering into ever smaller pieces and soon it would be nothing more than a pile of dust to blow away on the wind, "We broke up."

"What?" Tom gaped, furrowing his brow and peering dubiously at his son, "What happened? I find it hard to believe that his forgetting to call you last night could escalate to that."

"No. It wasn't that…we're just…we're over," Ben said, shrugging, and wiping away a new onslaught of tears, "He doesn't have a choice. His parents they…uh…they told him to end things with me and he did. If he didn't, they probably would've kicked him out, I guess, right? Probably."

"I'm sorry, son," Tom murmured, putting his arm around Ben and giving him a small hug.

"It just…really hurts," Ben said, "And I just…I want…to tell him…to argue…to yell at him, beg him, to choose me and…and I can't. It's his family, you know? How do I ask him to walk away from his family?"

"I know, son," Tom soothed, pushing away a tear of his own.

"I never felt like this before, dad," Ben whispered, voice trembling, absently rubbing his chest, and squeezing his eyes shut, "I just…I can't breathe or…or think or move, moving hurts…it all hurts and…it just, it hurts. I don't want to lose him but I…I already have, he's gone, he just…I don't have him anymore. Why does it hurt so much, dad?"

Tom said nothing, cradling Ben as he broke into small sobs. They sat like that for several tens of minutes, even after Ben's body stopped trembling, his tears dried up and he couldn't find the strength to cry anymore.

Then suddenly the backdoor opened, startling them both, and Hal's head poked out. He glanced around and then fixed his gaze on his father and brother seated on the porch swing. Ben hid his face in his hand, leaning forward on his knees, and turning away.

"What do you need, Hal?" Tom asked, rubbing his cheeks dry of the few stray tears he couldn't help shedding for his heartbroken son.

"Nothing, dad, it's just…uh…Ben…" Hal looked into the house, as though he were double-checking something, and then said in a confused voice, "Your driver is here."

Ben peeked at his brother, his brow raised in surprise, "My…what?"

The three men entered the house and Ben hesitantly trekked into the entry area where, sure enough, an older gentleman in a chauffeur's uniform, black trousers, black jacket with a golden emblem Ben didn't recognize etched into it, a black ascot bearing the same gold emblem, and black gloves, stood patiently waiting. He perked slightly when Ben appeared, giving a curt bow.

"Master Benjamin," the man greeted, opening the front door and ushering Ben out, "If you please…?"

"Excuse me, sir," Tom stepped forward, "Who are you?"

"I'm the driver," the man said, as though that should be obvious.

"Whose driver?" Tom persisted.

"Master Benjamin's," the man answered, once again, as though it should be obvious.

"Dad," Hal called, peering out the window, "There's a Rolls-Royce outside."

"What?" Tom exclaimed, pushing past the strange man to look out front, and sure enough, a black Rolls-Royce bearing the same gold emblem on its limo-tint windows was parked in the street out front of the Mason home, "What the hell is going on? Who are you?"

"I'm the driver," the man repeated.

"If I were you, Ben," Cass spoke up, standing at the edge of the family room, and smiling slyly, "I'd go with him."

Ben gave her a curious look, "What do you know about this?"

"About this? Absolutely nothing," Cass said, grinning, "But I do know a thing or two about being a princess, and rule number one, when your chariot arrives, you shouldn't keep your prince waiting."

"Oh my God, Ben, just go," Karen squealed, then smacked Hal, "Why haven't you ever sent me a driver?"

"I'm your driver, love, _I'm_ your driver," Hal told her insistently.

"So wait, am I princess in this story?" Ben mused, not entirely sure how he felt about that prospect.

"Go," the women all cried.

"I'm gonna go with the driver, I guess," Ben mumbled, timidly exiting the house.

"I'm not sure I like this," Tom grumbled.

"Quiet," Rebekah chastised, grinning as she watched her son.

The driver hastened after, opening the back door of the car, and Ben slipped inside. Its seats were plush gray, soft and buoyant. He felt like he was sitting on a cloud. The car itself had that 'brand new' smell, and there was a goblet and bottle of champagne in the middle of the seat. The driver shut Ben's door, and then hurried into the driver's seat, starting up the car and pulling out of the neighborhood.

"I'm sorry, but seriously, who sent you?" Ben leaned forward and asked.

"I apologize Master Benjamin, I do not know," the driver replied, "I am only supposed to take you there."

"Take me where?" Ben demanded.

"I have been instructed not to inform you. My apologies," the driver said.

"Great," Ben muttered, sinking back in the seat. It really was a comfortable seat. Though he felt he'd enjoy it more if he weren't overwhelmingly depressed by his recent break-up.

* * *

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A/N: Right, so confession time. The driver thing is very sudden I know...the transition from utterly depressing to WTF, sugar cane and puppy dogs comes out of nowhere. This is because I wrote these next several chapters in the time spanning from nine to midnight on Christmas Eve, and I had been writing for several days straight, and I needed to go to bed and...I really just wanted to get the damn thing finished. Reading back over I'm like...this isn't paced well at all, and you can tell, in the way these finals chapters sort of taper off in length. I was starting to see double. I do not recommend writing a 60K story in a week, really don't. Did the math, that is...uh...over 8000 words written a day. God, I'm wiped, and I need to start hauling ass on Fire Light tomorrow...and I also need to write an article for my blog. Its written just need to type it up. Oi...oh well. Sorry for the dream-like wooziness of these last chapters, I got lazy in the end. Maybe I'll go back later and rewrite.

I suck at wrapping up presents in real-life too, if you're wondering.


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: **CHAPTER SPOILER** but a quick warning: this chapter contains the sex scene! If you are not interested in reading it, I suggest skimming. It wasn't my best smut work anyways...that's what happens when I write erotica at ten...eleven o'clock at night, I've been writing three...four...maybe five days straight, I've had a beer or two, and my brain just doesn't want to do it anymore! I suggest waiting until the boys' get to intercourse in Fire Light personally, I want that scene to be incredibly romantic and emotionally charged, so I'll probably rest myself up when I write it. No guarantee that'll be any good either though.

Anyhow. You've been warned.

* * *

XXXV.

'There' turned out to be the Karlek Resort Hotel in downtown Boston. The only thing Ben knew about the place was that the cheapest rooms cost two grand a night, far outside of his family's price-range or that of anyone else he knew. The driver opened his door and he slipped out, only for a perfectly manicured woman to take over as his guide on this trip to Wonderland.

"Mister Mason, please, follow me," the woman said, with a brightly polished smile.

Ben wasn't exactly an expert on fashion, admittedly his mother still bought his underwear, but he was fairly certain the woman's pencil skirt and blouse were Prada and her black stilettos with the blood red underside were not a brand name knock-off. He hurried after the woman into the hotel, staggering to a halt in the lobby. He'd thought Ryan's loft apartment was lavish. The hotel had a Grecian design, marble floors, Doric columns individually carved with Cherubs and winged horses climbing up their pillars – no two were alike, a giant gold fountain in the middle of the room, surrounded by cushy chairs. He thought he might've lost the woman, but she paused to let him gape, and he hurried to catch up.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm very confused right now. I have just been…I think technically kidnapped from my house and now…I really just want to know, what the hell is going on?" he asked, trying to keep the growing anxiousness and slight excitement from his words.

The woman smiled and led him to what was, apparently, a private elevator. She used a key to open its door and, ushering him inside, used another key to make it rise.

"I am very sorry, Mister Mason," the woman said, sounding genuinely apologetic, "I have no information for you. I've only been told to take you to the executive suite."

"Oh. That's okay I guess. The what?" Ben cried, "The executive suite? Is that the expensive one?"

"It is our best room, yes," the woman answered, smiling as she rattled off, "Three thousand square feet, with a balcony, a private outdoor spa and pool, an indoor spa and pool, a lounge room, two bathrooms with showers and bathtubs complete with spa jets, a full kitchen, a king size canopy bed, the sheets are Egyptian cotton, three thread count, the blankets are satin, feather down, there is a fire place, a movie theater, an office space with high speed WiFi access, a personal chef on-call…"

Ben barely listened, strange thoughts bouncing through his head. He knew who it could be waiting in that executive suite, but the only reasons he could conjure for why that boy would do something like this were each more cruel or heartbreaking than the next, and he found himself torn between hoping it was him and desperately wishing it wasn't.

The elevator opened directly into the room, and the woman ushered Ben out. Tentatively, he stepped into the room, and the elevator closed behind him, shooting back down to the lobby and taking his final guide with it. Ben took a deep breath, aware he was shaking, and carefully walked through the wide room furniture with a couch and fireplace, and stepped into the next area, the bedroom and gigantic bed and to his right was the kitchen and dining area, a table spread with a candle lit dinner, roasted lamb chops, baked new potatoes, sautéed carrot and asparagus. Jimmy stood beside the table, hands in his pockets, eyes slightly downcast.

"Hey, you came," he said.

"Well the driver was very insistent," Ben explained, and then bitterly demanded, "What is this supposed to be? Like a final good-bye or something?"

"Uh…yeah, you could say that," Jimmy murmured, lifting his eyes up to meet Ben's and smiling, "A good-bye to my parents."

Ben furrowed his brow, turned the words over in his head, as his heart slowly rebuilt itself.

"Does that mean that…?" he whispered.

"Yes," Jimmy confirmed, taking a few steps forward, pausing, "My parents said six months for you to move out. Way I see it, that's six months for me to figure out a way to pay for college and find a job so I can cover my half of the rent," he took another few steps forward, "They don't have anything to give me that I can't replace, Ben, but you…I can't replace you."

"I…I don't know what to say," Ben murmured, still looking wide eyed at the room around them.

"Um…please, say that you're hungry and you want to eat," Jimmy replied, smiling hopefully.

"I'm not really hungry actually," Ben whispered, and for a moment, Jimmy was crestfallen, until Ben stepped forward, netting a hand behind his neck and drawing him into a kiss, and admitting, "But I do want you."

Jimmy grinned, slipping his arms around Ben's waist and briefly returning the kiss.

"Well…the bed is….uh…very comfortable. It's memory foam, actually," Jimmy rattled off nervously, maneuvering by and leading Ben by his hand into the bedroom, "And the sheets are…"

"Three hundred thread count, I heard," Ben interjected, pausing and tugging Jimmy to a halt. The other boy looked back at him curiously, "I don't want to make you choose between me and your family."

"You're not," Jimmy pointed out. He sighed, and turned back, resting his forehead to Ben's and kissing him softly, and murmuring, "It wasn't a choice, Ben, it was always going to be you. I just needed to figure out how."

"Well, why didn't you say that before?" Ben wondered.

"You didn't give me a chance," Jimmy said, smiling, and murmuring, "You always just assume."

"I'll work on that…" Ben grinned, snaking his hand around Jimmy's waist, tugging their bodies flush and engulfing Jimmy in an imploring kiss, sliding his tongue in to crash and cascade along every inch of Jimmy's inner mouth. They stumbled back the rest of the way to the bed connected that way, their hands searching out bare flesh to grip and caress, as they clumsily kicked off their shoes.

"You know, the only thing I really need to know about this room," Ben noted, short of breath, "Is the walls are not paper thin and my family is far, far away."

"See this is why I told you to book a hotel in the first place," Jimmy smartly pointed out, removing Ben's shirt and letting Ben tear away his own.

He slid up on the bed, crawling towards its middle, and Ben pulled himself up after, catching Jimmy from behind, embracing him close, sinking teeth tenderly into his shoulder, then Ben sucked and massaged the skin there with his tongue and mouth. Jimmy whimpered at the ministrations of Ben's mouth, Ben's hand slipping down to brush across Jimmy's quickly developing erection, and Jimmy could feel Ben's own hardening erection at his back. Ben pulled away suddenly, turning Jimmy over, pressing him back against the bed and settling over him, dropping a kiss to his mouth.

"I thought I lost you," Ben said, breathless, he lifted himself enough to look into Jimmy's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Jimmy murmured, features flushed and he gasped for breath. His fingers fumbled to undo Ben's pants, and he smiled, shrugged, "I'm here now."

"Yeah," Ben grinned, capturing Jimmy's mouth in another deeply beseeching kiss. He unbuttoned Jimmy's pants, dragged the zipper down, fluttering kisses along Jimmy's neck, down his collar, his chest, working at pulling down the pants, and helping in getting his own off and tossed aside. Ben rest his bare body atop Jimmy's, heat flowing through them, readily rushing to parts of themselves already overwhelmed with need for release, and Ben sheepishly confessed, "I want you to always be here with me…"

"It's a hotel, Ben," Jimmy teased, though his words were punctuated by flighty gasps for breath, "We have to leave eventually."

"You know what I mean," Ben growled, kissing Jimmy hard, running his hands beneath Jimmy, down across his lower back, out along his buttocks and brushing into his opening.

Jimmy whimpered, and moaned low, pushing Ben back with a kiss, and moving to turn himself over, allow for better positioning. Ben ran his hands along the contours of Jimmy's shoulders, rippling down his back, along his waist, and gripping his hips. He placed a few dainty kisses along Jimmy's spine, as he slipped a finger inside, prodding until he found the right spot, and when he did, Jimmy's back arched almost involuntarily, and he gasped.

Jimmy murmured something incomprehensible, and Ben smiled, gently working at relaxing the opening, despite his own desperation. The sounds Jimmy was making, those little breathy sounds, deeply erotic moans and whimpers, were nearly enough to push Ben over and when Jimmy was ready and he pushed himself in, he was already almost done. Jimmy clawed at the blankets, panting and gasping, as Ben began to rhythmically thrust inside of him, one arm gripping Jimmy tight round the chest, the other providing leverage, and he grunted and moaned with his own efforts, dropping kisses to Jimmy where he could, running his hand careening and caressing across Jimmy's constricting muscles. Ben knew he'd found the right place, when Jimmy began to whimper his name in an almost plea, and he gently picked up the pace.

When they came, it was almost exactly at the same time, orgasm rippling through them, and when it had passed, Ben lingered a moment, collapsed against Jimmy, inside of him, holding him close and lazily kissing him. Then he gently pulled out and relaxed down on the bed, Jimmy turning the face him. Ben studied Jimmy a moment, smoothed away the sweat slick hair from Jimmy's face and Jimmy smiled distantly.

"Me too. I want you to always be here, too," Jimmy confessed quietly and Ben rolled forward to kiss him.


	36. Chapter 36

XXXVI.

Jimmy and Ben threw on robes and ate their candlelit meal, reheating the food in the kitchen microwave. Jimmy started to heat the balcony spa up and then they made love again in the bed before going out to sit in the spa, Jimmy resting back in Ben's arms.

"How long do you have this room for?" Ben wondered.

"Long as I want," Jimmy shrugged, "It's on my parents' tab. I figured we could stay here for the day if you want and go eat dinner at your parents', or we could stay here for the night and order room service. It's up to you."

"Your parents can afford this?" Ben fretted, "And how did you get the room so quickly…I mean…there's no way you planned this before...did you? And this seems like something you got to book in advance…?"

"Getting the room was easy, I just called up Gary, and I get a friend's discount on the room," Jimmy explained.

"Gary?" Ben parroted, "What does he have to do with it?"

"His mom owns the hotel," Jimmy said, with a shrug.

"His mom _owns_ the hotel," Ben cried, then shook his head and said, "Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute…Gary Gunther…as in…is his mom Greta Gunther?"

"Yeah," Jimmy confirmed.

"As in…Greta Gunther, international hotel tycoon, owns major resorts in fifteen different countries? That Greta Gunther?"

"Yes. She's a really nice woman," Jimmy wrinkled his brow, "How do you know who she is?"

"She's the largest donor to the Boston Historical Preservation Society," Ben explained, as if it were a well-known fact, "My dad presented her an award at last summer's commemoration brunch at Boston U. I think…I think I may have met Gary there."

"Oh…hm…the world really is a small place," Jimmy mumbled, maneuvering round, looping his arm behind Ben's neck and pressing kisses all over his face.

"Is that why you guys are all friends with Gary? Because of his hotel connections?" Ben joked.

"No," Jimmy answered earnestly, "I'm friends with Gary because when we were in preschool he gave me his red crayon after some asshole ate mine."

"Wait…so this is all thanks to Gary?" Ben persisted.

"Well…no, the driver was thanks to Lenny, his family owns a limousine company, amongst other things," Jimmy said, nibbling on Ben's ear, "Why do you care?"

"Figuring out…um…where to…oh…I like that spot right there, babe," Ben sighed contently, holding Jimmy close as Jimmy suckled Ben's ear lobe. Then Jimmy let go and moved to press a kiss to Ben's lips, and Ben dazedly continued, "Um…who to…send thank you cards to, I guess."

"Yeah, that's nice of you," Jimmy said, smirking, sinking against Ben, face buried in the crook of Ben's neck, "You sure you don't just like hearing about the lifestyles of my rich and incredibly screwed up friends."

"Oh yeah. It's a shame your parents are going to disown you," Ben returned teasingly, "I think I might've decided I love you for your money."

Jimmy laughed and Ben pulled him into another kiss.

"You're really okay with it though?" Ben wondered, suddenly melancholy, "Giving it up."

"What do you mean? All of this?" Jimmy countered, snorting, "I don't care about all of this. I'd take a small, dump apartment with you any day over this."

Ben grinned, and faltered, "No, I mean…your family. I know that you said they had nothing you wanted, but…but at the end of the day, it's still your family. It couldn't have been all bad. I mean, there had to have been good times."

"If there were any, they were seriously overshadowed by the bad," Jimmy quietly remarked.

"I can't believe that," Ben argued, "There had to of been something…I mean, you're too good a person to have come from such a terrible place."

"I guess…" Jimmy started, faltered, shook his head, "No. Nothing."

"Come on, Jimmy," Ben pleaded, tightening his hold.

"Well…I guess I do remember once…when I was a kid, really little, back when my dad only worked on weekdays, he was only starting out at the bank and…well there was this one Christmas…and it was just…when I see I t in my head, think back on it…well, it was just this one perfect Christmas. My dad and I went and picked out a tree together, and he helped me decorate it and put me on his shoulders to hang the ornaments up higher and…um…and I helped my mom make cookies, sugar cookie cutouts that we frosted later, and she didn't even care that mine came out lopsided or the frosting wasn't smooth enough or…" Jimmy fell quiet, shook his head, "I don't know. Maybe it never happened. Maybe I dreamt it."

Ben traced his fingertips along Jimmy's skin, his shoulders and neck, small stars and swirls. He sighed and placed a kiss on the skin.

"So what did you want to do?" Jimmy prompted, "We can use the room for the day and check out a little later, head back to your parents' and eat dinner with them or…we could stay here tonight…"

"What do you want to do?" Ben wondered, "I mean…is it really that bad, being around my family?"

"No," Jimmy mumbled, "I shouldn't have said that, Ben, I'm sorry."

"No, I asked for it," Ben retorted, pulling Jimmy close, brushing a kiss to his cheek, "I never should've said the things that I did, about your family. I'm so sorry, I guess I was just so mad and..."

"Forget it," Jimmy decided, "We both fucked up."

"Okay. Agreed," Ben said, then furrowed his brow and glanced around their surroundings, lamenting, "I just don't have the means to make it up to you quite like this…"

"That's not really what this is, you know…I don't want you to think that…that this is me trying to buy your love or something. I really just wanted to…to give you something nice, you know? My family sort of screwed up our first Christmas…and so…I wanted them to give us a good Christmas, I guess, give you the Christmas you deserved," Jimmy murmured quietly.

"Well, then baby, you didn't have to do all of this," Ben grinned, squeezing Jimmy to him and covering him with kisses, "All I want for Christmas is you."

"In that case," Jimmy smiled deviously, suggestively running his hand up along Ben's inner thigh, "Let's go back inside, and make a perfect Christmas."

"Really? Again?" Ben cried, "I'm not complaining, we haven't done anything in the past several days, it's just...I'm a little worried about you, and we do have to go back to my parents eventually."

"I'll be fine. I want to get as much use out of this room as we can before we head back to your parents' tonight," Jimmy returned plaintively, climbing out of the spa and reaching for a towel nearby, "We still have three days left before we can fly home and have sex whenever we want again."

"Wait a minute, if we can have sex whenever we want at home, why don't we have sex whenever _I_ want?" Ben mused, following after Jimmy.

Jimmy just shot him a coy smile, before disappearing back into the room.

* * *

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A/N: Had to rewrite parts of this for dialogue I didn't much like. This is what happens when I post something almost directly after writing it. First draft crap blech.

Um...this chapter kind of reveals that Gary is, in no uncertain terms, very likely the richest of his friends. It's not important, but it's kind of meant to be a...hn...kind of thing, I guess, because he's also the biggest idiot, and genuinely nicest of his friends, too.

Oi...


	37. Chapter 37

XXXVII.

Ben and Jimmy returned to the Mason home sometime around seven. They entered the house holding hands, whispering to one another, and laughing quietly about nothing really, but the world was beautiful, because they had each other, so why not laugh? Tom was the one to greet them, giving them both a once over, folding his arms over his chest.

"Everything okay, boys?" he asked, though his concerned gaze was focused on his son.

"Yeah, dad," Ben confirmed, exchanging a small smile with Jimmy, tightening his hold on Jimmy's hand, "Everything is great."

They went to eat dinner, though the rest of the family and Cass had already eaten, and then the women practically attacked the boys for details on what exactly occurred once the driver had whisked Ben away, gushing to Jimmy about how wildly romantic it had been, to which he disgruntledly grumbled, "Wasn't trying to be romantic, just trying to do something nice, can't do something nice without being romantic…" while using his fork to jab the food on his plate with a vengeance.

It was opted that Cass stay the night and she was set up on the couch downstairs. Then everyone turned in.

Ben awoke early the next morning, in the gray haze before sunrise, and lay in bed studying Jimmy's troubled features, every so often ghosting kisses to any exposed bits of Jimmy's flesh and gently brushing strands of hair from his face.

As much as Jimmy professed to hating his family, and the ease with which Jimmy claimed giving them up would be, Ben couldn't shake the faraway look in Jimmy's eyes when he spoke about that legendary Christmas from years passed, it was the same look he got when he talked about his parents really, whether good or bad, that sad, hopeful look, that dreamy expression, of perhaps, maybe, possibly, this time, they might have that perfect Christmas again. It was seeing the calm rage of the father, seeing the absolute dedication to perfection of the mother, it was seeing the way that their every idiosyncrasy had formed together to create this perfect boy that now lay draped in Ben's arm, this boy that he loved so dearly, that suddenly ached through Ben as Ryan's words reverberated in his mind: _figure out a way to adjust to his family if you want to be with him._

Ben pulled himself from bed and hastily dressed. He drove out to the Boland house, and stood anxiously on their doorstep. He wasn't sure if they were awake, wasn't sure if they were even home, wasn't sure at all what he would say. He rang the doorbell. Someone answered the door a few minutes later, a 'nobody' Jimmy would've called him, and considered Ben.

"I'm here to see Mr. and Mrs. Boland…I'm…I'm a friend of their son," he announced.

The 'nobody' guided Ben through the house, and into a small dining room area. Mr. Boland sat at the table, readying to eat, Mrs. Boland laying out breakfast food in front of him. They both faltered at his entrance, their expression mirror images of rage and disgust.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Mr. Boland demanded.

"Sir, ma'am, I realize that I am probably the last person in the world that you both ever wanted to see again," Ben hastily rattled off, bracing himself for whatever retribution Mr. Boland might seek for his brazen actions, but continuing unyieldingly regardless, determined to get it all off his chest, "Jimmy told me about your decision to give me six months to leave his life or else he'll suffer whatever consequences you see fitting, and I guess I should inform you before I go any further in what I'm about to say, that as of yesterday afternoon, he's made a counter decision to instead cut you both from his life. Whether you believe me or not, or whatever you think my reasons may be for this, I don't want him to make that decision. It isn't fair of him to have to choose between his family and his heart.

"I love your son. I love him very much. I thought that I was losing him, that I'd lost him yesterday, and it felt as though I were dying. Maybe that doesn't mean anything to you, maybe it does, I don't know, but it's true, and I want you to know that, at the very least, I really do love him. Now, I understand that I'm not the person you wanted for your son, you hoped for someone probably a woman, or maybe it doesn't really matter to you, maybe just someone smarter, richer, more ambitious in pursuit of monetary gains, someone who would get him farther ahead in life, instead of just happily helping him remain where he's at. And I'm sorry that I'm none of those things you wanted in a partner for your son, but the thing is, I am what he wants. And he's chosen me. I won't leave him unless he sends me away, and you can try to threaten me, to attack me, bribe me, it won't matter, until he says go, I will stay with him.

"So this leaves us at a standstill. Jimmy doesn't think that you two can be reasoned with, he feels that he has to make this choice, to give you up if he wants to be with me. He really truly believe that you don't care about him at all and that beyond money and security, you have nothing to offer him but I know that he loves you, both of you, I've seen it in his eyes, and he respects you deeply and that losing either of you from his life will hurt him more than he wants to admit. I think you are both very rational human beings and I believe that we can figure something out that'll work for all of us. I know that you think we don't have any common ground, that there is no starting point to open discussion, and that there is no conceivable way for us to reach a compromise, but our interests aren't actually all that different.

"I can tell you many of our commonalities right now, things that should make us more than capable of reaching a compromise. We all love your son, we care about him and his future, and I believe that we all want what's best for him, maybe we don't agree on what that is, but that's where we need to start talking, I think. Our goals aren't that different, we want him to have a good life. Now you both believe that to have a good life he needs to have a good education with better than average grades, and then go into a good, stable career that will afford him a luxurious lifestyle. To me a good life is certainly all of those things, but to be happy and contented is far more important, and that life can be luxurious without an absorbent income. I think, that we can reach some agreement about how to give him both of our visions of a good life, I think it is very possible, and….and well, I refuse to leave until we do."

Ben took a steadying breath, and then waited. The Bolands were eying him, obviously trying to sort through everything he'd just rattled off, maybe judging him a little, assessing his words obviously. Suddenly, Mr. Boland's chair screeched slightly as he shifted his position, and Ben nearly jumped three feet at the sound, wincing and berating himself. Mr. Boland had dropped his eyes to his plate, and he maneuvered it around the table, picking his silverware up. His wife watched him anxiously, darting little looks at Ben every now and then.

"It's early," Mr Boland said.

"I realize that, sir…"

"I take it you haven't eaten yet," Mr. Boland began, "Charlotte?"

"Yes, dear."

"Get the boy a plate," he said, then motioned Ben into a seat, "Seems we have some things to discuss."


	38. Chapter 38

XXXVIII.

Jimmy woke alone in bed, much to his dismay. He lingered for several minutes, wrapped up tightly in the blankets, gazing unfocused at the ceiling, recalling the day before spent with Ben at that hotel, and smiling vaguely. It had been nice to treat Ben to a good time like that at least once before he wasn't able to anymore. The look on Ben's face throughout that whole day was perfect and he knew, even if something that happened tore them apart, even if tomorrow Ben ended things and left Jimmy alone, it wouldn't matter, because that smile and the way Ben's eyes lit would stay with Jimmy for the rest of his life.

Jimmy frowned. He lifted himself from the bed and slowly put on clothes. He trudged downstairs. Cass was gone from the couch. Karen was there feeding her son. She smiled a good-morning to Jimmy.

"Cass went outside with Matt," Karen answered the question Jimmy hadn't yet asked.

Inside of the kitchen, Tom was leaned against the counter sipping a mug of coffee and skimming over something he'd written the night before. He paused, watching Jimmy shuffle in over the top of his reading glasses, and then he pulled a mug from one of the cabinets, poured a cup of coffee and held it out to Jimmy.

"Thanks," Jimmy murmured, taking the cup and holding it between his hands, "Do you know where Ben is?"

"He wasn't upstairs?" Tom returned.

"No," Jimmy frowned at the coffee in his glass. He wasn't sure what had happened after he and Ben had fought the day before when Ben stormed from the room. He knew when he'd left to finish arrangements for the hotel and car, as he'd paused to whisper a few things to Cass about where he was going that Tom had been outside talking with Ben and it was obvious when Ben and Jimmy returned from the hotel, that Tom knew about their temporary break-up. It made Jimmy feel a lot more on edge around the Mason patriarch than he had ever felt before. Tom had given Jimmy his approval, and Jimmy had turned around and crushed his son.

Needless to say, Jimmy wasn't sure where he stood with Tom anymore.

"Mr. Mason, I…" Jimmy started.

"I wanted to talk to you about yesterday," Tom interrupted and Jimmy flinched.

"I know, I'm sorry," he immediately began.

"Sorry…for what?"

"I hurt Ben," Jimmy said, wincing as he continued, "I know when he thought that…that we had to break up that it really hurt him, and you have to know that…that hurting Ben, knowing I hurt him like that, it hurts me too, more than anything and…"

"I know," Tom cut in, taking a sip of his coffee.

Jimmy faltered, "You do?"

"Yes, I do," Tom said, smiling kindly, "Jimmy, Ben explained to me about your parents. He told me they gave you some sort of…ultimatum?"

"You could say that," Jimmy confirmed.

"I see," Tom sighed, "I'm guessing by the way you and Ben entered the house yesterday that you have chosen to stay with Ben."

"Yes, sir," Jimmy said firmly.

"Which means what...as far as your parents are concerned?" Tom pressed. Jimmy frowned, shrugged. He took a sip of the coffee, grimaced at its bitter taste.

"That I'm disowned, I guess," he wistfully replied, "I'm guessing they'll take the apartment first, just as a warning shot, you know? Give me a chance to 'get my act together'. They'll tell me they won't pay my half of the rent. So, I guess that makes priority one finding a new job. When they get desperate though, they'll go after school, threaten to stop paying the tuition, so eventually I'll have to figure out how to pay for that. I guess scholarships, right? I don't know if I qualify for any…I definitely won't qualify for financial aid."

"Right. Well, you'll need to call your advisor at school," Tom recommended, "I have a few friends out at Berkeley, colleagues, that I can call, see if they know of any scholarships you could apply for. As for the job, have you considered tutoring through Berkeley? The way Ben tells it, you've already established yourself in the department as an adept mathematician, I'm sure it wouldn't be too difficult for you to find work as a tutor – perhaps even freelancing – or maybe even as a research assistant? I'll speak to my colleagues about that as well."

Jimmy stared blankly at Tom a moment, taken aback at the sudden windfall of aid. When he walked into that kitchen, he was certain that older man would hate him, or at the very least, for some resent for events the day before.

"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mr. Mason," Jimmy mumbled, fidgeting with the coffee mug.

"It's not a problem. Also, Rebekah and I, we aren't as well off as your parents, and there isn't a whole lot that we can do to help you boys financially, but I'm thinking we'll take a look at our budget, see if we can spare you and Ben a couple hundred every month," Tom continued, "Maybe to help a bit with rent, maybe a little with groceries. We should also take a look in the area, see if we might find cheaper apartments near the campus."

"Right," Jimmy agreed, "Um…Mr. Mason?"

"Yes," Tom peered owlishly out at Jimmy.

"I just…thank you," Jimmy said, frowning at the ground as he went on, "My parents…they…they just really…and what happened with Ben, and…I know, that I'm probably not what you and your wife ever wanted for your son but it really means a lot to me that you're okay with me being with him."

"Jimmy," Tom began sternly, "All my wife and I have ever wanted for our son was to be loved and to be happy. You love my son and you make him happy. You are everything we ever wanted for him. Alright?"

"Okay," Jimmy mumbled, then smiled, "I could probably work as a tutor, but through the college they get paid seven dollars hourly based on how many students they tutor, and they're supposed to tutor each student for a minimum number of two hours, and they log their hours, though most math tutors average about three and half hours, so in order to make enough to cover rent I would need to tutor…"

"Are you doing math in my kitchen?" Tom demanded mock angry, "Because I have strict rules about math in my kitchen. Not if it gives me a headache."

"Oh…sorry," Jimmy said, sheepishly sipping his coffee.

There was the sound of someone entering the front door, and a few minutes later Ben strode into the kitchen. He went straight to Jimmy, placing a kiss on the other boy's cheek.

"Good morning, everyone," Ben beamed, pulling out a mug from the cabinet, pouring himself a cup of coffee and diluting it with a ton of creamer.

"You're in an obnoxiously good mood," Jimmy noted.

"Well, I just came from your parents' house," Ben said.

Jimmy face fell, "What?"

"Ben…" Tom started warily.

"No, it's okay, dad," Ben assured his father, then turned to face Jimmy, grinning and sipping his coffee, he repeated, "I had a talk with your dad over breakfast. Your mom makes the best eggs benedict; by the way, her hollandaise sauce is just like an explosion of wonderfulness in the mouth."

"Am I dreaming?" Jimmy demanded of Tom, "Am I still sleeping? Is this a dream? I'm still wearing clothes right?"

"Fortunately for everyone in the house but me, babe, you are still wearing clothes, yes," Ben cheerily answered, Tom shaking his head reprovingly at his son's antics, "Now, I spoke with your parents, and we've reached a compromise. They are going to keep supporting you financially and they will allow us to continue our relationship. In return, you will need to bring your grades up significantly, nothing less than a B in all of your classes next semester, and beyond that, nothing short of an average three point five GPA. Date night is going to be study date night from now on when classes are in session, sorry, babe. Also, you will be spending part of this summer interning at your dad's company. They wanted the whole summer but I talked them out of it if, starting next semester, I change my major to pre-law, with a minor in history, your dad seems to think I would make a persuasive arbiter, and that I might have a future in constitutional law, and could possibly find a career in politics. I will be interning in DC, while you're at your dad's company. Wait, don't freak out yet dad. Jimmy, your parents are willing to accept that a professor is a perfectly acceptable career suitable of a person dating their son, so long as I am tenured at a prestigious ivy league academy and have at least two books published before I turned thirty five."

"What?" Jimmy cried, "Ben, what did…? I don't understand."

Ben drank his coffee as Jimmy frantically searched for the end of a question.

"Also, we are to spend every Thanksgiving dinner at your parents', every Christmas Eve we need to at least make a three hour appearance at your parents' party, as well as every other Christmas and New Year's," Ben concluded.

"Your mom will not like that," Tom mumbled, "She will not like that at all."

Ben finished up his coffee, eying Jimmy with a self-satisfied grin. Jimmy gaped at Ben for several minutes, tipped his head to one side, narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow.

"You…you went and talked to my dad," Jimmy said.

"Yes."

"And…made…that…all of that…happen?" Jimmy stammered.

"Yeah…um…dad, you and mom are invited with Jimmy and I over to the Bolands' house for brunch tomorrow," Ben said.

Jimmy put a hand to his forehead, a smile creasing his features.

"What did you…wait, no…_how_ did you do that?" Jimmy asked.

"I just laid out a series of rational arguments and explained in detail the various pros and cons of making us break up and letting us be together," Ben explained.

"I can't believe…you went over to my parents, and you fought with my dad for me? And you won?" Jimmy grinned, crossing the room to kiss Ben, "You're not entirely human, are you?"

"I swear I am. Well, maybe not…entirely."

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A/N: Reading back of this chapter I'm like, "OI! I could've swore I put those lines in there"...there were whole lines that I meant to write in this chapter that were not in it at all, now they are...note to self, always proof chapters you write at three in the morning prior to posting, always, always, always.


	39. Chapter 39

XXIX.

Many of the Christmas holiday decorations around the airport were already taken down, being replaced with 'Happy New Year' banners and such, though a few clearance gift shop items were still on display in the store windows. The airport itself wasn't very crowded, and the few there were weary individuals, exhausted from their family vacations, and attempting to beat the rush for homeward bound by cutting short their trips before the New Year. Ben and Jimmy stood in line to return their car rental. Jimmy looked bright eyed and eager, a satisfied grin on his face. Ben stood behind Jimmy, forehead slumped against Jimmy's shoulder, clothes and hair disheveled and a dour expression etched on his face.

"Man, this was a great trip," Jimmy declared.

"Are you insane?" Ben cried, "This holiday sucked. I am so tired; I cannot wait to get back to California. Where there's no family, no snow, no problems, just me and you and our bed in our nice, warm, _quiet_ apartment."

"What are you complaining about? This whole trip was your idea?" Jimmy replied sharply.

"What are you defending it for? You didn't even want to come," Ben returned, "And what exactly was so great about it? Need I remind you, my friends sent my ex-boyfriend to grope me, your parents tried to break us up by threatening to put you on the streets, my sister-in-law almost killed you, no vacation that involves an emergency trip to the hospital is a good vacation. We broke up! Okay maybe it was for like…two maybe three hours and the makeup sex was fantastic, but still, this whole trip was a disaster."

The man behind the counter at the car rental gestured Jimmy and Ben forward, and Ben practically tossed the keys in his face.

"Here's your stupid car back," he grumbled.

"Was…everything…good with the car?" the man countered.

"The car ran perfect," Jimmy exclaimed, as Ben muttered, "You couldn't get us a Dodge?"

"Um…right…" the man murmured, "I'm just going to go out and check the car and then we will get all of the paperwork taken care of."

Ben slumped against the counter and glared at Jimmy. Jimmy shrugged at Ben, straightening his glasses and brushing some lint off his coat.

"I can't believe we have to come back here and do this all over again next year," Ben sighed, "But I've learned my lesson. We are booking a room in a hotel, far, far away from our families. We are not going through this again."

"No, I already promised your mom we'd stay with them," Jimmy said.

"What?" Ben gasped, "Why would you do that?"

"Because next year we have to spend Christmas with my parents, so she was really upset that we wouldn't be there," Jimmy explained sheepishly, "So I told her that we would stay the first half of the week with them, and stay the night at my parents' house on Christmas Eve, and then spend the rest of the week with my parents."

"I thought you preferred to stay in the hotel though," Ben protested, whimpering quietly, "Because the walls at my parents' house are so paper thin you don't ever want to do anything and that makes me grumpy which makes you grumpy..."

"Well I figure, my bedroom at my parents' house is like a hotel room anyways," Jimmy explained, "So it'll be like we're spending the last half of our vacation at a hotel. Family time and then us time."

"But Hal and Karen are going to be at my parents', with the brat, remember? Have you forgotten that he screamed all night last night? And now we have to fly back home on three hours of sleep?"

"I don't know, Charlie's grown on me over the week," Jimmy decided.

Ben gaped at Jimmy as though he was growing another head.

"Did you just call my nephew by his name?" Ben cried, "Okay, seriously, babe, were you abducted by aliens last night? Are you currently under some form of alien mind control? Because I just…I don't even know who you are anymore."

"You know, you are being really fucking annoying right now," Jimmy muttered.

"Oh baby, it's still you," Ben gasped, "You had me really worried there for a minute…"

"You are such a dork," Jimmy grinned.

"I love you," Ben decided.

"I love you too," Jimmy returned.

"Ahem…" the car rental clerk had returned, and was tapping the counter uncomfortably. Both boys flushed, realizing the very public place they were standing in exchanging such intimate sentiments. Jimmy buried his face in his hand and Ben finished filling out the paper work, then guided Jimmy from the line towards their gate as the clerk called in false cheer at the backs, "Have a great flight."

"What a prick," Ben muttered.

Jimmy grinned, slipping his arm around Ben's shoulders, leaning comfortably against the other boy as they walked, "One great thing about the trip though, that you cannot argue. We survived meeting each other's families and look, babe, the sky didn't fall after all."

End.

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A/N: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHahahahhaaaa...ah...yes, if you're wondering, I am this corny in real life. If you haven't reviewed the story yet, please do, that would be awesome! Overall, I hope it was entertaining. Um...I plan on proofing this eventually, because I imagine it is horrendously riddled with mistakes as my brain was off majority of the time I wrote this. I hope the last several chapters make sense-ish, also, brain pudding you know. Whatever...

Uh...please read First Patrol or Fire Light if you never have! And I am going to bed.

MERRY WHATEVERHOLIDAYYOUCELEBRATET HISTIMEOFYEARUNLESSYOUDON'TCELEBRATEINWHICHCASEHAVEAGR EATDAY!

And done.


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